Elsewhere
by OtakuLad
Summary: In this AU, Bruce Wayne and his 22-year old, half-demon wife Raven must face the greatest challenge the Universe has ever known... his father-in-law! And if Trigon the Terrible wasn't bad enough, his long, lost brother Darkseid also gets involved!...The Universe hangs in the balance with Bruce and Raven caught in the middle. Warning: Minor language (Teen) and mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Elsewhere**

_**Preface**_

Dear Reader,

Know one thing before you begin...  
My world is not your world.

Bruce Wayne is _not_ Batman.  
There is no Batman. There never was.

This is the world of 2021, where Bruce Wayne's parents did not die in a dark corner of Crime Alley. Bruce Wayne's parents were murdered in a terrorist attack of Gotham Towers on a crisp September morning in 2001, along with six thousand other innocent civilians.

Bruce Wayne _still_ wages a war against crime and terrorism, only as Gotham's preeminent citizen and industrialist. After the death of his parents, young Bruce Wayne dedicated himself to business and the rebuilding of Gotham. He is a staunch supporter of the Gotham City police and an American military industrialist. This is a Bruce Wayne _far_ more dangerous than Batman ever could be…

**Chapter One: The Key To The City**

**I  
Gordon**

From the dais, Commissioner James Gordon glanced up from his notes at the well-dressed audience of Gotham's luminaries seated before him.

There were friends, fellow officers, dignitaries, and only a handful of members of the press - for which he was extremely grateful. Everyone was dressed up and smiling. This was the rare night where he didn't have to deliver tragic news to a city. To address a Gotham press that didn't care about human tragedy anymore, only the gory details.

But _not_ tonight.

Tonight the Gotham City Police Department were assembled to honor a man he _almost_ thought of as one of his own. Tonight the GCPD honored Bruce Wayne; philanthropist, industrialist, and the best friend a police commissioner ever had. Damned near a son, if he let himself dream a little…

Gordon grinned, adjusted his glasses, and began.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, fellow officers, members of the press, Mr. Mayor…

Tonight I have the privilege to honor a _very_ special man. A true humanitarian and friend of the Gotham City Police Department. I do not wish to embarrass the man by stating his generosity… But I will. To date, his foundation has donated 77 million dollars to the training, equipment, and funding of your Gotham city police."

Gordon allowed the applause to die down before continuing.

"Through the tireless efforts of the Wayne Foundation, our law enforcement, criminal justice system and rehabilitation centers have become the envy of the civilized world. As an officer, the abundant generosity of the Wayne Foundation has allowed me not only to protect this _great_ city, but given us the means and measure to _serve_ her faithfully. While we may not be able to prevent all crime, my hope is that our dialogues and work will mean a safer tomorrow, for _all_ of us.

This is nice. Normally when I read prepared statements, it's a murder investigation."

The crowd chuckled, allowing Gordon to take sip of water.

"If you can bear with a sentimental old cop for awhile longer, I'd like to talk about the man, and _not_ just his money. It's public knowledge that Mr. Wayne lost his parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne on that cold day in September, 2001 twenty years ago. I've said it many times before and I'll say it again, the Wayne's were two of the best people I ever had the privilege to meet. That was a dark day for Gotham. And Bruce, again… I am so sorry for your loss."

For a moment, the crowd was completely silent.

"Today, Gotham Towers stand once again, risen from the ashes of terrorism. A monument to the enduring spirit of justice and enterprise of the man we honor tonight. The twin towers represent the two business passions of Mr. Bruce Wayne; Wayne Communications and Wayne Industries. The south tower, a monument and legacy to the memory of his parents and their passion for an industrious Gotham; the head quarters of Wayne Industries. The north tower, a monument to the hope of the future; communication and exchange. The heart of Wayne Communications.

Bruce, you and six thousand other families suffered a terrible loss twenty years ago. But what you've given the people of this city has been _so_ much more. You've given us hope and charity. Tonight let the city give _you_ her deepest thanks and love."

As Gordon shook hands with Bruce Wayne, he gave his daughter a quick wink and a smile. He had been initially hesitant in letting Barbara write this speech for him… it felt like cheating. The thunderous standing ovation dismissed any lasting objections he may have had.

Too bad the mayor had to follow that!


	2. Chapter 2

**II  
Barbara**

Barbara Gordon watched her father finish his (she could say _her_) speech and then step over to shake the hand of her handsome boss. She caught the quick little wink and a smile the Commissioner shot her way. Dad _never_ forgot a favor.

She allowed herself a moment to reflect while the mayor got up to speak. It had been twenty years to the day when terrorists had piloted a 767 into each tower, reducing them to rubble and killing over six thousand people in an inferno of collapsing landmarks. Gotham had never been the same after that day. Bruce Wayne had been 12 years old, she had been five. She hadn't seen her father for three weeks after the attack.

Bruce Wayne never got to see his parents again.

Bruce had dedicated his life to Gotham City after that day. He had started Wayne Communications six years later when he was 18. At 22, he had taken over Wayne Industries, the same year he completed his MBA. Within three years, plans and funding had been secured to rebuild the towers to house the two prevailing passions of Bruce Wayne, information and industry.

Barbara herself had been hired onto Wayne Communications four years ago. Shortly after completing her PhD in Information Systems at Gotham U last year, Bruce had promoted her to Vice President of WayneNet. Her dad had always hoped the promotion would come with a candle-lit dinner and an engagement ring, but it really _had_ been merit-based (despite what the office gossips thought). Bruce Wayne was _the_ most dynamic, intense and productive man she had ever met. Barbara _would_ have fallen for him in an instance, but business always came first. She was one of the few people that could actually keep up with the man. _That_ was something to be proud of. After all, she _had_ inherited an unrelenting work ethic from one of the best; her father.

She tuned back into the mayor's speech when he opened the mahogany case on the dais and held up a large, golden key to the audience. The Key to the City.

"…And now fellow citizens, it is time to bequeath Gotham's greatest honor onto its _greatest_ citizen, Mr. Bruce Wayne!"

There were applause, and then...

A man was standing in the fourth row. He was tall, slim and dressed in an emerald-green tuxedo. If not for the young, blonde lady he clutched in front of him and the knife he held at her throat, he could have been a heckler. But the look of sudden fear in her eyes silenced the room into tense apprehension. She started to plead for help, but the tall man whispered something into her ear that made her go quiet, and suddenly pale.

Barbara marveled at the audacity of this idiot in a room full of cops.


	3. Chapter 3

**III  
Wayne**

Bruce had been watching him from the corner of his eye for the past 20 minutes. He was _surprised_ to see an ex-con at this ceremony, especially Edward E. Nigma, a man who had made millions, and lost it all under the stigma of insider trading. Edward had fashioned himself a small empire with his gaming company and brain-fitness software _before_ his conviction. His insider trading had carried a relatively short three-year sentence – just long enough for him to lose control of his company. How much of that fortune had he been able to hold onto, Bruce wondered.

Wayne knew Nigma was an eccentric, brilliant man with a questionable psychological balance. He had spent a considerable fortune in lawyer fees to defend himself, only to feel betrayed and persecuted by society at large when the judge's gavel dashed all hopes of his acquittal. But _was_ he smart enough to tie in information provided by WayneNet with the police investigation that led to his conviction? Doubtful…

Bruce watched as Edward led the tall, frightened woman to the middle of the aisle, still clutching her tightly and then address a gap-jawed mayor.

"Well your Honor, looks like _I'll_ be the entertainment tonight! _Frightfully_ dull here, wouldn't you say, my dear? Everyone please remain calm, no one wants to see this lovely lady get hurt. I'm only here to ask the mayor a question…

A riddle _actually_. I _could_ ask the mayor why someone, such as Mr. Wayne, who donates millions to the Gotham City Police gets the Key to the City while someone, much like myself, who funnels millions into the mayor's last campaign gets only… the shaft.

No, Mr. Mayor, I won't question you on semantics. You only have to answer one _teensy_, _tiny_ riddle and then the lady goes free, I go back to jail, everyone's happy. That's it. Ready?"

"_Keys without locks, so carefully played._

_For dying and crying, that's why I'm made!_"

As time seemed to stand still, Bruce Wayne watched the mayor carefully while he depressed the secret panic button in his cufflink to alert outside authorities. His mind however sent out a panic signal of a different nature. Bruce had the answer to the riddle within seconds, but he doubted the mayor was in any state to answer it. He knew the outcome wouldn't change even if he did. The mayor's life was in immediate danger, perhaps _all_ of their lives. He had to determine how Nigma would make his play and quickly.

"No answer?" Nigma grinned… "Time's up! A REQUIEM, Mr. Mayor! More precisely, _your_ requiem!"

When he heard the loud 'POP' from the audio equipment located above the stage, Bruce Wayne _sprang_ into action, launching himself at the mayor. Driving his shoulder into the mayor's midsection, the industrialist and the politician tumbled off the front of the stage, rolling hard onto the floor below as Wayne felt the air above them shiver past in a condensed wave of sonic destruction.

**BOOM!**

The dais exploded into boards and splinters, flying in all directions. The others seated at the back of the stage appeared shocked, but otherwise unharmed. Gordon, and other officers in attendance, were drawing their guns, every single one of them taking aim at Nigma, who clutched his blonde hostage tighter than ever, slowly backing towards the exit.

Wayne saw a shadow appear between Nigma and the young lady, and knew he had to act _fast_. Pushing the mayor aside, he scrambled towards the confused assailant and managed to get hold of the arm wielding the knife. As Nigma crumbled to the ground, Wayne heard him whisper his last words before catatonia took hold.

"…_the light was green_…"


	4. Chapter 4

**IV  
Aftermath**

A dozen officers from the surrounding seats _pounced_ on Nigma while others took away the frightened hostage as Wayne backed off. He prayed he was the only one who saw the shadowy form depart through the ceiling. Within seconds, a babbling Edward Nigma was cuffed and apprehended while others were looking after the female hostage and the mayor. A dozen officers were on their comm phones with emergency services.

It was James Gordon who approached him first, placed his hand on his shoulder and spoke to him _quietly_.

"Please tell me this wasn't a publicity stunt, Mr. Wayne."

"I can assure you, commissioner, it was _very_ real. Is the mayor alright? I tackled him pretty hard."

"Oh, he'll be alright. I'm not sure about his career though. There will be an investigation into Edward Nigma's _unofficial_ campaign contribution that will hurt him a lot more than your shoulder tackle. Are you alright, Wayne?"

"I'm shaking a little. Remarkably well, actually."

"You should still get checked out. What _was_ that thing that destroyed the stage?"

"I'm pretty sure that was the Wayne prototype Vortex Cannon from a few years back. I recognized that 'pop'-sound as the mayor was speaking. A concussive-type weapon, limited in application, but more than capable of liquefying a human being at that range. It's probably concealed in one of the overhead speakers."

"Requiem… Killed by sound... Well Wayne, nice work, but don't _ever_ try that again! A room full of cops and you…"

The commissioner's lecture was cut short as Barbara Gordon approached the two of them. Barbara smiled and handed her employer the Key To The City. She had retrieved it from the corner of the stage.

"I believe this is yours, Bruce. Seems a shame for you not to receive it… after all _this_."

"Commissioner, would you mind if I had Alfred drive Barbara home? This is about to become a press fiasco." Wayne could see the press approaching and hear the sirens outside.

"Of course. I'll need a statement from both of you… but we can do that tomorrow. Feel free to lean on Barbara for support. She's very… _supportive_. Barbara, make sure he's OK."

"That's in the '_other duties as required_' part of my contract, Dad," his daughter replied, already making her way to the nearest exit.

Gordon heard the yells of '_Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne!_' approaching from the few members of the press that were _not_ Wayne News Network employees in attendance. James Gordon spread his arms to intercept them as Bruce and Barbara headed for the rear exit.

"I'm sorry, but I'll need statements from _everyone_." It warmed Gordon's heart to watch his daughter escape with Wayne's arm around her, weaving their way through the crowd. Almost like a _couple_, he thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**V  
A Symphony of Information**

As they rushed out the back exit to private parking, Barbara was glad to see Alfred Pennyworth again. The mature English gentleman was still Bruce's official guardian, just as Bruce Wayne had become the guardian of Dick Grayson, his ward. To call Alfred Pennyworth a 'butler' would have been a grave disservice to the true nature and worth of the man.

"A pleasure to see you again, Mr. Pennyworth." Barbara beamed Alfred Pennyworth a gracious smile. Like any good gentleman, Alfred held the door to the limo open for Barbara Gordon even though Bruce Wayne insisted Alfred was to _never_ hold the door for him.

"As always, the pleasure is _mine_, Miss Gordon. I hear there was an… unexpected event. I trust you're both well?"

"Quite well, Alfred, thank you. Bruce was quite heroic." Barbara took her seat next to Bruce. She hadn't looked in a mirror since the Edward Nigma incident, but she was sure she didn't look _half_ as good as when the evening began. But then again, why did it matter to her right now?

As the car left the reserved parkade, Bruce leaned ahead to give direction to his loyal friend. "Alfred, please drive Miss Gordon home. Oh… I'm sorry, Barbara… Did you want something to eat first? I know there was to be a meal after the ceremony."

"Thanks, but I'd better not. Dad would get the wrong idea." There was only one man in the world that her father would have gladly have given his daughter's hand to. As it happened, she was sitting next to him.

"He shouldn't. I have mentioned to him that I am _married_." Bruce Wayne held up the wedding band on his left ring finger.

"Dad's got this _crazy_ idea that you wear a wedding band to discourage any potential female… suitors. Please don't take this the wrong way, Bruce, but my father does have access to _all_ legal matrimony records in the country… And he's looked. There's no record of a marriage license for Bruce Wayne to be found. Of course, I consider our relationship as professional, Mr. Wayne… although I can't say the same for my father." No sense in getting her hopes up, Barbara figured.

"That's not true, Barbara. I do think of us as friends. You'll have to trust me though, I _am_ married."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne."

"Bruce. Please, call me Bruce."

"Alright…Bruce. And yes, we _are_ friends. Despite what the staff seems to think."

"Good, now that that's settled… There's some business I would like to discuss while we travel. Let's do a little digging through the corporate finances of the mayor's last campaign with the Oracle system. I want to know if Edward Nigma was telling the truth and how much unreported money was involved. If the mayor is impeached, I want to know one way or another."

"What's she like?" Barbara wanted to do a little _digging_ of her own.

"…Pardon?"

"Your wife, what's she like?"

"…Tragic… Powerful. Mysterious… innocent. Now let it go, Barbara."

"Yes, sir." Barbara grinned. Somehow, she knew Bruce Wayne was a sucker for the tragic, powerful, mysterious, innocent type. It fit him. Barbara wondered if _Mrs._ Wayne had ever seen the light of day through a window in stately Wayne manor, or whether she even _lived_ in Gotham. She certainly _was_ Gotham's best kept secret.

Wayne hit two buttons to raise the privacy divider between the back seat and Alfred. The safety partitions also went up around their windows, blocking all outside viewing access and encasing the back of the limousine into darkness. _Safe from peering eyes_. Barbara wondered if this is what he did when he wanted to do _naughty_ things in the back of his limo... She put the brakes on that train of thought immediately.

"Oracle…Halo Access. WayneNet. Search files _Edward Nigma_". At his voice commands, holographic files and screens floated on the air before them. Bruce pondered where to begin.

"Excuse me, Bruce. Do you mind if I drive?" For a second, Bruce wondered if Alfred's driving had offended her. Then he realized that she was referring to the holo-files before them and his hesitation. Obviously, it wasn't _Alfred's_ driving that had caused her discomfort.

"Oracle, Change User."

Bruce sat back and watched beams of light flash across Barbara's fingertips, beginning to obey her slightest touch, all the while scanning her DNA and fingerprints, as a symphony follows the baton of the conductor. Now in her element, files were arranged in a movement as Barbara Gordon conducted light and information itself, issuing commands to change the tempo, the score, the theme. She dove through financial accounts while numbers and dates proceeded along laser lines, affixed to a web of transactions and transgressions. Wayne had built the instrument, but Barbara Gordon was the maestro.

"Bruce, there's a 6 million dollar contribution from Devinette Enterprises to the mayor's last campaign," his beaming VP announced triumphantly after four minutes. He knew Barbara was good. Now he knew _how_ good.

"Never heard of them."

"_Devinette_ is French for Riddle. Hold on… Ah ha! It was a holding company for Griphus Trust, the financial arm of RiddleWare. It's like he _wanted_ to be caught!"

"…Maybe he did, Barbara. After all, I think Nigma was _buying_ something from the mayor with this off-the-books contribution. He seemed to have no interest in politics before this '_donation_'. Probably political favor or inside information. He didn't want to make it impossible to trace if he were double-crossed. And judging from tonight, it looked like he was."

"I've just dropped the relevant files into your drive for review. The car's pulling over... must be my stop. Can you drop the divider, Bruce?"

Alfred pulled the limo over in front of Barbara Gordon's downtown suite in a _very_ desirable part of town as the divider fell. He was about to get out and open the door for Miss Gordon - when two lovely arms wrapped around his neck from behind and fiery, copper hair spilled onto his shoulder and neck as Miss Gordon kissed him on the cheek. He hadn't even heard or sensed her lean forward from behind.

"Thank you, Alfred. I'll let myself out. Say Hello to Mrs. Wayne for me," she whispered into his ear.

As she was leaving through the car door, Bruce called out to her, "Oh, and Barbara, that was a very nice speech you wrote for your father. Thank you."

Hair the color of sunset-clouds across a sea of fire and eyes of crystal blue reappeared back into view, _neither_ hiding the coy grin of the smartest woman he employed.

"What gave it away?"

"_Tonight let the city give you her deepest thanks and love_. That's the first time I've ever heard your father say the word '_love'_. Did the old man take much convincing?"

"Not at all. He's said it to me all my life. Good night, Bruce. Good night, Mr. Pennyworth. _Be of love a little more careful than of anything_."

When they had pulled away, Bruce Wayne stared ahead and noticed a queer and rather rare phenomenon...

"Alfred… are you _blushing_?"

"Yes sir. I do _so_ appreciate the works of Mr. E.E. Cummings."

Author's Challenge: There's 50 Bonus FanFic points to anyone who guesses the identity of Mrs. Wayne before Chapter 8. She's a well-established DC character. Good Luck!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Two: The Big Blue Mystery**

**VI  
The Morning After**

The following morning, Bruce was surprised to hear the doorbell as he finished eating the three-course breakfast Alfred had prepared. He wondered why security hadn't alerted them of a visitor. Perhaps a visitor for Alfred?...

"Master Dick! What a pleasant surprise. Welcome home, sir!" Alfred's voice carried clearly from the front foyer. It was almost as much of a shock to Bruce to hear Alfred's excited voice raised so audibly as it was that his ward had returned unexpectedly home.

Bruce had not expected to see Captain Dick Grayson for at least another month. He was disappointed when Dick couldn't get leave to attend his awards ceremony the previous evening, although in retrospect, it was probably for the best. He had spent half the night preparing his public relations team for the media fiasco the morning would bring. Bruce still felt a little bruised and tired, but he also felt more alive than he had in months.

As he entered the Wayne family breakfast nook, Richard Grayson looked every inch an accomplished man in his Air Force uniform. Tall, confident, fit and one of the best young pilots in the forces today. Bruce was not surprised. The former Flying Grayson had no fear, a sharp mind and the amazing reflexes required for the amazing flying machines of today.

"Captain, this _is_ a surprise! Have you had breakfast?" inquired Bruce with a smile to his ward.

"I would _love_ breakfast! Sorry Bruce, hope you don't mind the surprise. Sorry I missed your award last night, but I _was_ hoping to make it in time for the wedding. Is Barbara still asleep in the master bedroom or did she sneak out already? I was hoping to congratulate her. You're quite a catch, you know." Dick always had a mischievous streak. The army hadn't taken that out of him.

It was Alfred who came to the rescue. "Mr. Wayne was a complete gentleman last night, Captain Grayson. A demanding and protective boss, to be sure, but Miss Gordon was driven directly home with no impropriety between herself and Mr. Wayne." Perhaps it was Bruce's imagination, but he almost heard a tinge of _regret_ in Alfred's voice.

"Alfred, Dick knows that. He's only teasing." Bruce had not turned on the television or screens yet this morning. He wanted a peaceful breakfast before he had to bear witness to Gotham's rumor mill. He reminded himself to give Barbara a call to see how she was coping.

"Have you seen the morning news, yet?" asked Dick with feigned concern, trying his best to hide a _cat-who-ate-the-canary_ grin.

"...Oracle, show headlines, today." Bruce watched as a halo-screen popped into view in front of him as Alfred headed into the kitchen to prepare Dick's breakfast.

'_The Key To The City and Barbara Gordon's Heart. Experts Predict June Wedding_'

'_Wayne Saves Mayor! Police Commissioner Loses Daughter… To Love!_'

'_Wayne Takes Out Nigma But Barbara Gordon Takes Home The Prize_'

'_Wayne Steals The Show… And Commissioner's Daughter'_

_'Barbara Eileen Wayne!'_

Bruce held his brow in disbelief. It was almost too much to bare. The carefully prepared statements that Wayne Communications had provided Gotham's media outlets appeared as dreary, castoff footnotes to sensational journalism run amok. He would have to personally make a public statement today to set the record straight. He considered the headlines had the Mayor been internally shattered by the vortex cannon and felt relieved… somewhat.

"I'll make a statement today to head this... _spectacle_ off. I hate for Barbara to be caught up in this as some gold digger. So what _really_ brings you back home, Dick? Surely not trash journalism."

"No, you're right, Bruce. I'm here on behalf of the military. It's the situation in Kahndaq. _Very_ classified."

"As one of the military's primary weapons suppliers, I do have access to certain classified information." Bruce didn't want to tell his ward about Oracle's true intelligence capabilities. He could easily be indicted for that on _multiple_ violations.

"Yes sir. We have confirmed that Kahndaq has successfully imported or developed a nuclear weapon. We would like to go in and disable it."

"Isn't that what Big Blue's for?" inquired Wayne, closing the headlines that floated above the breakfast table.

"This is the confidential part, Bruce. Big Blue is… _AWOL_."

"Whatever details you can provide, please. I'll do all in my power to help." This _was_ disturbing.

"He was sent out on an internal investigation to Connecticut four days ago. All contact abruptly ceased. The president's been very hush-hush about it."

"And Vice President Luthor's position?..."

"He was the main proponent for sending Big Blue into Kahndaq for disarmament. That's common knowledge. From what I hear, he had _nothing_ to do with the 'Connecticut Incident', as we're calling it. He's been harping on the Kahndaqi situation for weeks, trying to stir up support for intervention."

"I wouldn't count him out yet, Dick. Ah, there's Alfred with your coffee and toast. I'll leave you to it, Dick. I've got to get dressed and do a quick web cast. If you weren't too busy today, maybe _you_ could check in on Barbara... She's quite a catch, you know?"

Author's Challenge - Hint #1: 50 FanFic points are still up for grabs if anyone can guess the identity of the bride of Bruce Wayne!

Here's a hint: Many characters in my story are a little older than normal continuity. For example, Captain Richard Grayson is 24-years-old, Barbara Gordon is 25-years-old. Only one more chapter before the big reveal!


	7. Chapter 7

**VII  
Counter Measures**

Bruce went to his bedroom and informed his young wife of the current situation. Over the past year, she had given him such clarity and emotional support that even now he felt better about the current turn of events. He asked her help in finding Big Blue. Even if he had the world's networks at his disposal, his betrothed had her _own_ ways which would could produce faster results. With a plan in place, Bruce began to dress in his best business attire, and made a couple of calls.

"Oracle. Call. Barbara Gordon, private." Barbara picked up on the third ring.

"Bruce, thanks for calling. I was worried you'd be one of the guys who _never_ call after the first date."

"Very funny. How are you holding up, Barbara?"

"Well, there were a lot of media people lined up outside my condo _and_ at work. I've briefed the staff on the company's public disclosure policy again. Dad's over the moon of course. Called me first thing this morning... And our network ratings are up. So it's not _all_ bad. How are you?"

"Well. Dick dropped by with some… _unexpected_ news. I'll fill you in later. I'm going to need your skilled hands again today. Best to assemble the war room. Say two o'clock?"

"Mr. Wayne, my skilled hands at your disposal. And say hello to Dick for me."

"Ahem, yes… Did you share our discoveries about Nigma and the Mayor with your father?" Bruce cast a sideways glance at his wife who was remarkably unfazed. But then again, if he ever _had_ been unfaithful, he could never hide it from her.

"No sir, I was awaiting direction. Would you like the anonymous, untraceable email as usual?" There were rumors that the Gotham City Police Department attributed these emails to a '_Detective Tips_'. His conviction rate was one of the highest in the department.

"That would be fine. See you at two o'clock with the war room staff, Barbara. Oracle. End call." Bruce walked over to his wife, kissed her gently on the forehead and proceeded to his media room.

He had long ago installed a production suite in his home to broadcast himself. Like most executives, he worked from home whenever possible and a large part of his business was broadcasting. The suite was divided into two halves. On one side, the giant emblem of Wayne Industries framed the back wall behind a 60-year old mahogany desk, the same desk that had belonged to his father. The other half represented Wayne Communications with dozens of live streams set against the back wall, with glass furniture to represent transparency. Today he stood comfortably in front of the desk representing Wayne Communications to address the Barbara Gordon allegations.

"Oracle. Begin video. Wayne Communications suite. Mark 2… Count 3, 2, 1…

... Lately, there have been a number of false allegations concerning myself and Miss Barbara Gordon. I wanted to clarify our relationship. Barbara Gordon works for me as the Vice President of WayneNet. She is also someone I consider a friend. But I assure you there is _no_ romantic involvement between myself and Miss Barbara Gordon. She is a woman of unquestionable moral ethics and character. After the unexpected events of last night's award ceremonies, I had my chauffeur take Miss Gordon _directly_ home. I assure Gotham that our relationship is platonic and professional and would advise all media outlets to pay closer attention to the press release that Wayne Communications provided summarizing those facts _before_ engaging in further libelous behavior.

I would like to also take this opportunity to thank Gotham City and the Mayor for the honor bestowed to me last night and the Gotham City Police Force for their quick actions in apprehending Edward Nigma. It's unfortunate that rehabilitation of Gotham's former convicts does not always yield _immediate_ results, but I hope Mr. Nigma receives the help he so desperately requires. I will also pledge whatever assistance is required to his hostage to help her recover from her unfortunate ordeal."

After reviewing the video, Bruce authorized its distribution to Wayne Net News for immediate viewing. Then he made another call.

"Oracle. Call. Video. James Gordon, private."

"Bruce! The answer is _yes, _my boy!" quipped an obviously jovial Police Commissioner from a screen in front of him. He was smoking his cigar again.

"Thank you Commissioner, but I believe we're discussing two different things. I was hoping you could provide me with the lady's name who was taken hostage last night. I'd like to provide finances for whatever counseling is required."

"Jumping the gun, am I? Blast! Barbara said the same thing. Her name is _Doctor_ Chase Meridian. She's a police psychologist. She'd like to talk to _you_ actually, Bruce. I don't think she was overly impressed with your heroics."

"Fair enough. Tell her my adrenaline overcame my senses and I will try and arrange an appointment... Your daughter's a remarkable woman, James, but our relationship is strictly professional. I'll be issuing a statement shortly. I would hate to see her good name sullied by unscrupulous news agencies."

"Yes, you and me both."

"Did you find any leads on the allegations levied against the Mayor by Nigma?"

"Now Bruce, that's _confidential_. I can assure you that our best forensic auditors are on the case to see if it bears merit..."

Bruce's attention was distracted by a discreet tapping thirty feet away at his office door. Alfred appeared with his usual polite demeanor seconds later. He held no secrets from his eldest friend.

"I beg your pardon, Sir... Master Grayson says he has a few important issues to discuss before he departs. He regrets to inform you that he is on a tight schedule."

"That's a shame, I was hoping to spend some time. Sorry Gordon, I'll be sure to touch base later. My secretary will forward my statement from last night. My ward… Dick dropped by unexpectedly."

"Of course. Good bye, Bruce… End call."

Author's Challenge - Hint #2: 50 FanFic points are _still_ up for grabs if anyone can guess the identity of the mystery lady in Wayne's bedroom.

**The last hint:** Bruce's wife is (_technically_) an alien. She was not born on Earth. Her pregnant mother was a resident of Gotham before being transported off-world.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII  
Daughter of the Demon**

Bruce went to the sitting room where Captain Grayson awaited him. Dick was unusually grim, but that was expected with the news that America's greatest weapon and peace keeper had gone missing.

"So what does the military require from Wayne Industries, Captain?" Bruce wanted to get straight to the point.

"They're very interested in your prototype stealth amour, Bruce. It looks like the president wants to go ahead with the nuclear disarmament in Kahndaq. The request for inspectors will be held up in the U.N. for the foreseeable future."

"Shouldn't the government focus on their search for Big Blue? What you're proposing could ignite the Middle East into all-out war."

"Kahndaq has vigorously denied the existence of nuclear weapons within their borders. They can't tell the international community that we disabled war heads that they don't have. Luthor is convinced they plan on a first strike against Israel to kick off their Al-Hijra holiday."

"Dick, this is an act of invasion. I know Muhannad has done a lot of saber-rattling lately, but do you think the risk justifies the result? What of the repercussions if it goes wrong?"

"My superior's orders, Bruce. Three suits by the end of next week. That's what I was sent here to request. For the safety of the nation. We can take Kahndaq apart if need be."

"...Dick, who'll be piloting these suits?"

"...The best pilots we have."

"Dick?..."

"…I'm _one_ of the pilots, yes."

Wayne felt the world sink beneath him. He would never call himself a father, but Bruce had been Dick's mentor and guardian for the past 10 years. He had been proud when Dick elected to serve his country through cadets and later the Air Force. At twenty-four, he _was_ one of their best pilots. Bruce placed his hand on Dick's shoulder.

"Dick, I have faith in you. You _must_ do what is right. I pray that our country will not have such a great need of you, but we must answer the call. I'll need all information regarding the pilots to commence the build."

"Of course. Thank you, Bruce. I'll let my superiors know immediately. I'm sure General Johnson will be in touch... And I really _was_ pulling for you and Barbara."

"Dick, you know I'm married. It's not conventional, but we are very happy." The marriage had been a sore spot for Richard. Bruce had hoped with time he would understand.

"Uhhh, yeah… Say hello to Mrs. Wayne for me."

"Tell her yourself. She's standing behind me." Bruce grinned and moved to reveal his wife standing behind him. A beautiful woman, but somehow… _foreign_, shrouded in an indigo cloak and an open slit dress that left little to the imagination.

Dick became noticeably agitated by her presence... A full year and she still insisted on wearing her '_cult clothes_'. Would it kill her to put on a pair of jeans?

"Richard. Please. _Stay_." Her voice was calm, but there was a hint of desperation. Bruce was a little unnerved to hear it.

"...Sorry, duty calls. Talk to you later, Bruce. See you later, Alfred!" Dick _knew_ she had done something to Bruce to make him accept her… _love_ her. He had pleaded with Bruce to be reasonable before the wedding, but in the end… he was forced to accept the marriage. With a sigh, Captain Richard Grayson departed with Alfred hurrying behind him.

Bruce had the sneaking suspicion that his ward thought he had married a mad woman. Bruce turned to his wife and carefully embraced her after watching Richard depart.

"I'm sorry, dear. Please don't let it upset you. He'll come around."

"I've felt.. _terrible_ things just now… Events are put into place. This ends horribly, dearest. The Fate that has cursed me has now conspired against you."

"Then we will face it together… How goes your battle?"

"Be not so proud," she spoke as she brushed her hand against his cheek while staring into his soul with eyes of endless indigo. "Pride _goeth_ before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall, my love."

"I shall take no pride in our love. I am humbled and blessed by it."

"That fate could love us _half_ so well," she spoke against his shoulder. "I have communicated with the Stranger. He is our ally. My search for the one you call Big Blue is fruitless. I fear he is no longer part of this world of yours."

"Do you mean?!…" Bruce was incredulous at the ramifications.

"No, my love. I do not mean he has _passed_ from this existence, merely transported to another place beyond my reach. Perhaps a lonely part of the world, perhaps even another world. There are strangers in this land you call Connecticut, who are not of this planet. Their emotions are alien to me. I believe the one you call Big Blue departed with them."

"I have to meet Barbara and my executives for two o'clock to find out everything we can. Do you feel up for a quick trip to Connecticut tonight if required?" Bruce inquired.

"As you wish. I will gather my strength in meditation until then." Her hair was as black as midnight with eyes the color of twilight. She was over ten years his junior, but had an emotional maturity that surpassed his own, a true study of contrasts.

"Thank you. I will be always be by your side, Raven."

"My love, I am _always_ with you."

Bruce knew that truer words had never been spoken between them.

**Author's Note**

Raven?! From '_The New Teen Titans_'?! But she's so _young_…

In my world of 2021, Raven is twenty-one years old. A lot of you may be familiar with Raven from the WB cartoon, but mine is based on the _original_ Raven from the comics and years older than when she appeared in '_The New Teen Titans_' by George Perez and Marv Wolfman.

She left her home dimension of Azarath at the age of twenty when it was prophesized that she would be the one to stand against her father, Trigon. Journeying to Earth to seek allies, she found a kindred soul (and fell in love) with Bruce Wayne. Bruce and Raven were married secretly in an Azarathian ceremony on the Wayne estate one year previous - Alfred and Dick were the only guests. This is why no wedding records exist.

Bruce Wayne is thirty-two. While they are different in age and life experiences, the couple share many emotional similarities which will be explored in later chapters. There's also the profound danger of Raven expressing powerful emotions (such as rage or hate) or passions (lust) which will _also_ be explained soon to readers not familiar with her tragic back story.

**50 FanFic points to BenJS for guessing Raven!**


	9. Chapter 9

**IX  
The War Room**

By two o'clock, Wayne sat at the head of his Communications "_war room_" in front of his top executives. To set the mood, he waited for absolute silence before he began.

"Ladies and gentlemen, today we must expand our scope of operations. At WayneNet, we have developed the most advanced network surveillance in the country, which we lease to our government. Today we must tap this capability to solve a mystery of titanic proportion.

As you know, the U.S. government employs a secret weapon code-named _Big Blue_. Over the past years, the Wayne spy satellites, also leased to the government, have given us a glimpse of this unbelievable weapon.

It is a man... But not just _any_ man. He can only be described as a… _super_ man. This man flies through the air faster than a jet, seems to be indestructible, can tear tanks apart with his bare hands and shoots heat beams from his eyes. He looks like you and I, but he is _not_ like us.

Through the research of Vice President Gordon, we believe we have traced the origins of Big Blue to a _meteorite_ landing in Kansas in 1988. A farming couple discovered a small boy near the crash site and took him in. The local police also investigated and later brought in the military. Certain groups believe this was an alien space ship that crash-landed, and _not_ a meteorite. I am now one of those people.

In 1990, the military took this child from the farming couple who had found him and declared him as a ward of the state. We now believe this child was to become known as Big Blue. We believe that while he looks like us, Big Blue is not of this world. He is an incredibly powerful alien raised by the U.S. Government.

I'm not here to pass judgment. Big Blue has seemingly provided a number of services for the government that have secured the safety of our great nation. While the terrorist attacks of 2001 had a profound impact on myself, it also had an impact on American foreign policy, specifically in the use of Big Blue. He has become the greatest peace-keeper in the history of the world. I am happy to report that Big Blue is on our side.

However, I have recently learned that this ultimate weapon of peace has gone missing. If this information were to become public knowledge, mass panic could ensue and our enemies would seize their moment. I have learned that it appears Big Blue disappeared in Connecticut four days ago. We believe this was a non-government action.

I need a report of any information about something called '_The Connecticut Incident_' in the next three hours. I want to know what happened to Big Blue by tonight. Information gathered will be _extremely_ classified, so take no chances in your searches. Black hole routing protocol applies. I'm sure we're not the _only_ ones looking."

After the meeting, Bruce resisted his impulse to withhold Barbara for a few minutes to discuss details. _Caution_ was the watchword of the day… He knew that Barbara would be performing the bulk of the black ops intelligence work, but he couldn't be perceived as showing favoritism. After tidying up a few work details and ensuring that his statement of last night had made its way to Commissioner Gordon, Bruce Wayne alerted Alfred that he was ready to go.

Author's Notes:

Big Blue is - _of course_ - the character we know as Superman. In my story, he was _raised_ by the U.S. Government, not by Jonathan and Martha Kent. He never moved to Metropolis, never became a super hero, or even worked as a reporter. But where did he go? And what happened in Connecticut?

**Contest #2: For 50 more FanFic points. Who made Big Blue disappear?**


	10. Chapter 10

**X  
Driving Home**

As Alfred drove him past the old streets of Gotham, Bruce looked out at the city he called home.

They had done well… Revenge had burned in his soul for twenty years but for the last decade he had been able to pursue it the _correct_ way. Ten years ago, Bruce had been moments away from ending _all_ hopes of peace and stability.

Gotham had still been run a motley assortment of mobsters, bankers and corrupt public officers. Upon taking the office of Commissioner, James Gordon had promised to fight corruption on _all_ fronts, to make Gotham _safe_ again. No one gave him a chance. Public rhetoric was cheaper than table salt and still left the bad taste of broken promises in people's mouths.

James Gordon made Bruce Wayne believe. He saw in Gordon a kindred soul, someone willing to fight for the sake of the city even if the odds were overwhelming. A man willing to do the right thing, the hard thing. He allowed the Gotham Police Department access to WayneNet surveillance satellites and other surveillance with a warrant, sometimes providing more information than they had bargained for.

Bruce _himself_ had gone after the corrupt judges, the ones paid off by the mob, cloaked behind the mantle of _too_-carefully-considered human rights, tossing plaintiffs back onto the streets to disappear without a trace. Gotham's law was open to negotiation. It had been Bruce's support of Harvey Dent as District Attorney that had finally brought the hammer down on Gotham's '_bought and paid for_' legal system. It was a true tragedy what it had cost Harvey in the end.

Alfred's question brought him back to the present…

"Pardon me, sir. You have that _reflective_ look about you again. If you wish to discuss anything, this traffic _is_ dreadfully slow."

"Just remembering, Alfred…what the city was like _before_… How much did you catch of the conversation this morning?"

"Any parts that I did not _catch_ sir, Mrs. Wayne was kind enough to elucidate for me. She cares about you deeply, master Bruce."

"And I her, Alfred. I'm sorry you have to be involved in our… _uncommon_ marriage."

"Master Bruce, I assure you, I have grown quite fond of Mrs. Wayne over the past year. I admit, in the beginning, I had expected a more _conventional_ mate for my young charge, but you have taken the fate of humanity and Raven Wayne into your heart. You are an extraordinary man, and it is my honor and privilege to provide whatever service I can to both yourself and Mrs. Wayne."

"Alfred, I really don't know what I would have done without you. There's a dark part of my soul that _demands_ revenge…"

"Have the nightmares returned, sir?"

"Not since Raven came into my life. I sleep well with her by me. I think she's saved me. It's like all the darkness just fades away…"

Bruce suddenly remembered their honeymoon. Raven had teleported them instantly to the Iguazu Waterfalls for breakfast, Venice for lunch and later watching the sun set against the great Pyramids of Egypt. She could travel anywhere she wished in an instant. On the second day, they traveled to another world of beautiful flowers. Nothing but plants and lakes across the entire world in alien sunlight.

He would have loved to see _her_ home, the inter-dimensional realm of Azarath, but Raven showed no desire to return there. She would only say '_It is forbidden_.'

"You know, Alfred… If I wasn't so worried about what the world would do to her, I'd have Raven bring Dick and his team in and out of Kahndaq in minutes. Just _think_ about the military implications of teleportation. But they would just steal that power, wouldn't they? I don't think we're _quite_ ready for inter-dimensional travel on that scale."

"Well, it would certainly alleviate this traffic congestion, sir. I'm afraid we'll be delayed for dinner."

"It does _seem_ that way. Can you put up the privacy shields, Alfred?"

"Of course, sir. Did you also wish the privacy divider to be employed?"

"For a moment, yes." Once raised, Bruce began to answer his messages. There were 12 that needed his immediate attention and 67 that he passed off to his managers. There was one he didn't want to open…

General Johnson appeared on the halo-screen in front of Bruce.

"Ah, Wayne. Are you on a secure line?"

"Yes, General. I'm in my car with the screens in place."

"Excellent. I've given Mr. Fox the specs of what we need. I hear these suits are quite similar to your previous model."

"Yes sir, although we've made some great improvements in the stealth capabilities. They're now invisible."

"Excellent. I can't wait to see… and _not_ see… them in action. Are you comfortable with the deadline?"

"As comfortable as I'll ever be. I hear I have a _vested_ interest in ensuring they work."

"… I'll be frank, Wayne. Dick's the best flight-suit pilot we have. The best I've seen as a matter of fact. And he's smart. I don't know how Muhannad got his hands on this weapon, but we'll make damned sure he doesn't get another."

"Thank you, General."

"I'll keep in touch Wayne, if I hear of any developments. Over and out."

Bruce reflected for a moment in the darkness of the back seat. He felt alone, so he dropped the divider and watched Alfred wait patiently behind a mass of traffic.

But Bruce Wayne was never alone. Almost unconsciously, he projected his feelings of loneliness across the city and in a moment, _she_ was sitting beside him. He heard Alfred give a little cough from the thick, brimstone smoke that accompanied her arrival.

After he had rubbed the smoke from his eyes, Alfred was surprised to learn he had taken on a familiar second passenger. "_Mrs. Wayne_, this is certainly a day full of surprises!"

"Good afternoon, Alfred. I'm afraid you're not the _only_ one at my husband's beck and call... I thought perhaps you were thwarting another hostage situation, dearest and required my assistance once more."

Author's Challenge #2: Who made Big Blue ("Superman") disappear?

Hint #1:It was two DC characters who are in a romantic relationship.


	11. Chapter 11

**XI  
The Trouble With Trigon**

Raven leaned over to place a kiss on her husband's cheek. Since the beginning, only careful embraces and small tokens of affection had been the extent of their sexual relationship. In a moment of sexual passion, Raven's demon half could manifest and tear apart the divide that separated her adopted world from the world of her demonic father. Her life was a constant struggle against something inside of her – powered by emotion - that sought to reunite with her demonic father. Her adopted world was _far_ from ready for the arrival of Trigon the Terrible…

Bruce had been surprised at the kiss, however innocent it had been. It had been incredibly… _difficult_ to have an amazing and beautiful wife and still remain chaste. When he was rational, Wayne knew he could never jeopardize the safety of the world for a night of passion with Raven, no matter _how_ tempting it was to consummate their sacred vows. When he was irrational, Raven took him into her arms and drew away his fervent lust, replacing it with a succor born of pure happiness. She was the balm to his troubled soul.

_Still_, he wondered what effect this emotional transfer had on his young wife. Where did all that trouble go?

"I'd like you to be present when my team reports the findings of our Big Blue search. That, and I missed you," Bruce confessed.

"I am always at your side, beloved."

"I would also like to request _his_ aid in the battle with your father... if we ever manage to track him down. From all accounts, Big Blue seems to be the most powerful force on Earth. What are your thoughts, Raven?" Bruce's initial investigations of Big Blue had uncovered feats of such unimaginable power that he had trouble comprehending such a being even _existed_. He wanted to behold the real thing.

"A unified front of every super-powered being on the planet _would_ present a formidable opposition. It is possible my father may even be vanquished if such a unified force were to engage him. It is also possible that my father would obliterate that force and all life on the planet."

Bruce knew that he was woefully unprepared to grasp the true stature of Trigon's power. This was a demon that had conquered, enslaved and destroyed _entire_ worlds. He had coerced every bit of information out of Raven that she had been able to provide over the past year, but such power was still incomprehensible to him.

From what he gathered, the people of Raven's home-world _Azarath_ sought to establish absolute peace within their spiritual being. They were a race of mystics who sought perfect enlightenment. All negative thoughts and passions were exorcised from their souls by casting them beyond the Great Door of Azarath into the nether-realms. Azarath and her inhabitants were transformed into an ethereal paradise of the spiritually aware.

Abandoned, this negative energy accumulated in the nether realms and eventually took the physical form of Trigon. This embodiment of hate and desire was later summoned to an evil world that worshipped such dissension. Even so, this was the first world to fall to Trigon's wrath. Trigon gained power with each world he destroyed feeding on fear, hate and pain. According to Raven, he had destroyed thousands of worlds.

Raven's human mother, Angela Roth, had been an inhabitant of Gotham until twenty-two years ago. This was why Raven had returned to the city, to search for aid in her mother's old homeland. Her mother had told her long ago of her unfortunate conception. A despondent Angela had been seduced by the demon Trigon _disguised_ in human form. To satiate the castoff Azarathian lust dwelling in his soul, Trigon had seduced, raped and fathered heirs across the multiverse. To her knowledge, Raven was the only child of Trigon to ever survive past infancy.

After learning of the demon's true nature, and now carrying his child, Angela decided to take her own life and that of her unborn child. Before Angela could perform the fatal deed, the Priestess Azar appeared to her to take her from the Earth and mend her emotional and spiritual wounds in Azarath, where Raven was later born.

Raven had explained to Bruce that her arrival in Azarath was _less_ than desirable by the populace. Her birth had caused the skies to go as dark as midnight and a great blight to spread across the land. A feeling of ominous malaise took hold of those around her. Raven had shocked Bruce during their first month of their marriage when, after rigorously studying the religions of the world, she declared that she was the Anti-Christ.

She had laughed when Bruce had told her she had to be a pope or democrat before she could _officially_ be recognized as the Anti-Christ. She was the child of a powerful evil, but she did not follow her father's path. The third month Raven studied Buddhism and pondered if Azarath had tried to create Nirvana.

Their short time together had brought about an amazing expansion of Bruce's consciousness. Before Raven, Bruce had measured the world in red and black. The concepts of right and wrong was something best left to your share holders. Spiritual beliefs were replaced by mission statements. With Raven, he was forced to question his own morality and beliefs.

His companies had developed _remarkable_ things, things of undeniable value to national security and law enforcement. Wayne Industries was one of the premiere anti-terrorist equipment and technology makers in the world. He had an incredible responsibility to ensure it did not fall into the wrong hands.

It had given Wayne Industries a 10% hair cut in share price that day, but Bruce implemented tight corporate control over all WI weapon distribution, requiring _full_ traceability on all their weapons. In the end, it actually worked out. The federal government were impressed by Wayne's stewardship of responsible armament and awarded him more defense contracts over the past year - most held formerly by LexCorp. He had heard that the president herself had selected WayneNet for their intelligence operations.

But should his company _even_ develop weapons of destruction? By creating tools of death, was he enabling murder? These were the kind of questions he asked himself lately. In a world of Big Blue, was there even a need?...

"You seem conflicted, my love." Raven interrupted his memories and internal ponderings. As an empath, he could _truly_ keep nothing from her.

"It would seem we're entering a brave, new world. Let us hope we are not alone."

Author's Challenge #2: Who made Big Blue ("Superman") disappear?

Final Hint: He's the greatest escape artist in the world. She's big. Find out tomorrow!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Three: The Great Escape**

**XII  
"She's Very Pretty"**

The appearance of Barbara's face on a holo-screen in front of him interrupted his reverie. Oracle announced an incoming video call from Barbara Gordon on his private line. Bruce spread his hands across the image to widen the screen and accepted the call.

"Hello, Barbara… I would like you to meet my wife, Raven."

It was a rare moment when Barbara Gordon was _dumbstruck_. She was looking at a dark-haired _girl_ in the exact same spot she had been the night before. She looked like to be about twenty, dark-haired, perhaps northern European. There was something foreign about her appearance. There was a red Bindi1 stone on her forehead. Certainly, she was attractive, but not drop-dead gorgeous. But mostly she looked… melancholy. Like some angst-laden, skinny undergrad from Gotham U in weird clothes.

"…Nice to meet you, Mrs. Wayne. Was I interrupting anything, Sir?" In her mind, Barbara pushed aside a sudden, silly notion to get her hair dyed black. He's married… he's married… _to a girl!_... He's married….

"Not at all Barbara. I've brought in Raven to help us with our search."

"Alright. Ready to report. I'm engaging scramble mode… _now_." The screen went fuzzy for a second and then returned to clarity.

"On a side note, you'll be interested to know," continued Barbara, "that the Mayor announced his resignation only minutes ago. He vehemently denies Nigma's allegations, but does not want to continue his term under "a cloud of implied impropriety and innuendo." _His_ words. Seems the D.A. had a meeting with him just before the announcement."

"Let's hope that was the _only_ backroom deal the Mayor had brokered. I'm sure the police will have a full inquiry. What of the search?" inquired Wayne.

"There were _very_ strange goings on four days ago at #7 Chapper2 Street in the suburb of New Haven. I'll bring up the satellite feed now…

As you can see, there's an individual approaching from the south at 6:40 AM. Tracing the path backwards, we have confirmed this is Big Blue as he touched down in New Haven Green just seconds prior and strolled over as a civilian. It appears he flew in from Washington with an elapsed flight time of… 23 seconds, mostly over the Atlantic."

Bruce attempted to calculate _that_ kind of speed in his head, and made an educated guess at somewhere around 10 miles per second, close to Mach 50. Slower than light-speed but certainly faster than a speeding bullet. What _would_ the military do if they ever got their hands on Raven who could teleport between worlds in the blink of an eye? Bruce suppressed a cold chill.

"What's also interesting is the USAF flew a jet precisely below his flight path when he approached land. This was labeled as a '_training exercise_'. We speculate this was to cover the sonic boom local residents would have heard as Big Blue approached land. I'm putting together a project of all 'training exercises' conducted by the USAF over coast lines of the past ten years. It should give us some real insight into the movements of Big Blue." Barbara Gordon _never_ lacked initiative.

"At 6:40 AM, it appears Big Blue is allowed entry into #7 Chapper Street, the residency of Scott and Barda Free. The only thing we could find on these two was that he's a high-profile escape artist who tours under the stage name of _Mister Miracle_ and Barda is his wife. They were granted _special_ immigration status in 2017. That part was really hard to track down."

Bruce would never admit this to Barbara, but he had attended the Mister Miracle act several times on Scott's tours through Gotham. Bruce had always been fascinated with the art of escapology. Scott Free didn't _look_ like an alien, but his escapes were certainly unworldly. Barbara continued:

"At 7:02 AM, there is a bright light that can be seen emanating through the Free's second story windows for five seconds, and then… nothing else. Fast-forwarding to 1:00 PM... you can see several government and police vehicles investigating #7 Chapper, but Big Blue was not spotted further. There have been no USAF training exercises since."

"Are the authority's still there?" inquired Bruce.

"They are, but not much else. Authorities removed twelve truckloads of belongings that day. The place must be gutted by now. Official press releases describe the residence as housing low-level radioactive materials and requiring decontamination."

"Barbara, I really need to know where they took those items."

"Already on it, chief. Looks like…the Air National Guard base on Boston Post Road near New Haven. Not too far away from the scene of the crime."

"Give your team my thanks, Barbara. Make sure all necessary precautions are taken to cover up our tracks."

"Yes sir. And… it was very nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Wayne. To be honest, we thought you might be an urban legend." Barbara broadcast her patented megawatt smile.

"Thank you. Please… call me Raven."

Once the call ended, Bruce began to formulate their next move…

"_She's very pretty_," whispered Raven, staring forward with her hands on her knees.

"Huh… Barbara?" Bruce asked. "I suppose she is…. Oh, don't you start _too_!"

"I'm sorry, my love. There are things I… so _badly_ want to give you, but dare not. I know it pains you… as it pains me. I have been an outsider all my life. That you would accept me completely - even though my love for you can only be given as a sister instead of a _wife_… My failings and your greater benevolence. How should I deserve such love?"

Bruce took his wife into his arms and brushed a small tear from her eye.

"Shhh. Your _failings_ have allowed us - and our world - to live. I only need you by my side, now and forever. You _deserve_ my love. My failing is how little of it I can return … I have a selfish heart." They held one another in silence for moments, in tender compassion and heart felt emotion.

"Alfred," called Bruce, "I'm afraid we're going to have to abandon you. Take your time returning."

"Of course, Master Bruce. Shall I confirm reservations…" When the smoke spilled over into the front seat, Alfred realized he was suddenly quite alone. Alfred Pennyworth hoped this wouldn't become a trend. Their car rides were excellent opportunities to discuss Bruce's plans and directions for Wayne Industries. Alfred was on the board after all…

1. A Bindi is the forehead decoration, often a jewel, that south Asian women wear just above the center of their eye brows. DC defines Raven's as a "Chakra", to help her to control the darker passions of her soul-self. This fanfic is educational, _non_?

2. Yes, in our world it's Chapel Street. I wanted to use Chapper as it's close to the French word for Escape which is _ychapper_. Clever, _non_?

Author's Challenge #2**:**** 50 FanFic points to CalMom72 for guessing Mister Miracle and Big Barda!**


	13. Chapter 13

**XIII  
Strange Investigations**

Raven and Bruce appeared instantly in their bedroom. It had taken Bruce a little while to get used to this teleportation at first. It had a jarring effect when you weren't used to it and he swore he sometimes saw horrific images in the flash of an eye between worlds.

Still, it beat the gridlock of rush-hour Gotham.

And they had things to do…

"I _need_ to change. Can you send your soul-self to the Air National Guard base?" asked Bruce as he began loosening his tie. Raven knew she shouldn't, but she watched as her husband undressed. Lust was a foreign emotion to the inhabitants of Azarath and merely a quirk for her until she had met Bruce. He was all that a man _should_ be.

Ten years ago, Trigon had reached into Azarath itself to proclaim her birthright _or_ her soul. Her demon heritage had manifested itself from that dark, fateful night, waiting for the moment she would lose control of herself and rejoice in chaos. Her father had shown she _could_ be corrupted, that she was different from the Azarathian people. Otherwise she would have died that night. There were seldom times she realized how corruptible she was as when she saw her husband naked…

"Are you embarrassed?" asked Bruce as he slipped into black cargo pants.

"Perhaps it would be safer… for the sake of the world… if we had separate rooms," she replied – almost imperceptibly biting her lip. "But then again, I'd probably still watch you sleep."

"You watch me sleep?... Never mind. Look, I have an idea… When I watched Scott Free at his shows in the past, he seemed unable to teleport like you do. During his escapes, he actually appeared under severe duress, that perhaps his life actually _was_ in jeopardy. His wife seemed more like a body guard than someone who could…disappear.

But what really struck me was the _costume_. It was like nothing I had ever seen, yellow, green and red. I could never confirm it, but it seemed like that costume was technology of an unimaginable level. Like something from another world. If the Free's truly _do_ come from another world, it would follow that it's technology is vastly superior to ours, that his costume was the key to his miraculous escapes.

I believe they used a device of some sort to travel off-world. Obviously, it's not a rocket ship but a perhaps a portal of some kind. Since you can do it, there's probably a way to harness that power… a portal to different places. It could be a simple device. I believe Big Blue accompanied the Free's to their home world or some far off place. If we can find the Free's, we can find Big Blue."

"I _do_ watch you sleep, my husband. To protect you from the nightmares. There is a burning desire for vengeance inside you that threatens to consume you, much like my own demons. You are balanced on the brink of the abyss."

"…Thank you. There's some leftovers in the fridge. Care to join me?"

Raven smiled and wondered where her old husband had gone. Military espionage? Teleporting from the car? Leftovers?... After polishing off a bowl of vegetarian pasta, she glanced at Bruce and broached the subject.

"This is unlike you, my love."

"Sorry, I haven't eaten since Breakfast," he guiltily replied over a mouthful of milk.

"No heart-of-my-heart, I mean this direct approach you seek. It's unlike you. Normally you would ask a few questions to people you trust. For you to insist on defying the law you hold in such high esteem to have me spy inside the Air National Guard base. You are a mystery, Bruce Wayne…"

"Not at all," he responded while wiping the chicken sauce from his mouth with a napkin. "Trust me, I break privacy laws every day. And I know _who_ I'm up against."

"There is an _adversary_?"

"Of course… I can't say for sure that Lex Luthor was responsible for Big Blue's off-world disappearance, but I do know this… If there's any way possible for Vice President Luthor to ensure Big Blue _doesn't_ have a return ticket, he'll do it. What involvement Scott and Barda Free have in this, I don't know."

"Vice President Luthor _fears_ Big Blue?"

"I'm not sure _fear_ is the right word. Probably '_hate'_. I've never asked him his reasons, but his feelings have become apparent from our few meetings. Luthor always struck me as the sort of man who thinks of himself as the most powerful person in the room. He expects people to do his bidding without question."

"He sees Big Blue as a threat?"

"That's probably closer to the truth. I truly believe Big Blue is a being of conscience. From the data we've gathered, he could wipe out all of America's threats. Either our government is showing remarkable restraint, or Big Blue is. My money is on Big Blue. Well my lovely wife, are you ready?"

"Before I go... Is this for Big Blue or Dick?"

"…Dick… primarily. But Big Blue sounds like a force for good, or at least _American_ good. But this military intervention frightens me. I trust your feelings on Dick. I think it ends badly if he _does_ go."

"Then we shall continue this conversation in five minutes." Raven drew up her dark blue cloak, and sat down cross-legged on the floor by the table. Within a second, Wayne knew that a part of her had departed.


	14. Chapter 14

**XIV  
Air National Guard Base 51**

Transporting her soul-self across vast distances of space was easier than physically teleporting. In her spirit form, she could have traveled as quickly to Mars as Connecticut. While her conscious being was divided into two, a part of her was still tied to her physical form in Gotham. Bruce was admiring her legs while her soul was hundreds of miles away. Her physical form glanced up at him and smiled as his face turned red. True consciousness was ubiquitous, a goal she aspired to.

The base was a collection of nondescript buildings, so Raven began with the largest. With the number of military vehicles parked outside, it seemed the best place to start. She would have preferred to wait until night instead of early evening to do this, but it seemed time was of the essence.

Gliding inside as a raven-shaped shadow, she slid across the shadows on the walls, flickering from room to room. She could travel like this for up to five minutes before the pain from separation of soul and body became unbearable and she began to die. She had searched over half the complex when she came upon a strange sight.

In a large room, bits and pieces of furniture were spread across numerous tables. At first, it was difficult to tell it was even _furniture_ until she saw mattress coils. It seemed as though someone had dissected every single household item the Free's had, carefully documenting each piece. In the center of the room was what appeared to be an 'operating table' with machines she had never seen before. Even the stuffing from the chairs and couches had been bagged, stored in lines and rows along tables.

Besides the extraordinary effort of combing every fiber of possessions that the Free's owned, there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. This was bedding, chairs, tables, carpet and even drywall reduced to shreds… a wholesale forensic audit perhaps?

Raven faded into the corners when she head voices approach.

"…I don't think there's much more we _could_ do, Sir. We've conducted every test we have available. To the best of our knowledge, there is nothing extraterrestrial about these items. We've even traced them back to their point of purchase." It seemed to be a lab technician.

"Just make _damned_ sure of that before all this *%!# is crated." His superior officer.

"Yes, sir."

Raven could feel the first real pains of soul separation. In another minute, it would be pure agony.

"Carry on. I hope those boys from LexCorp found more than we did."

Success! Raven let her soul self pass through the shadows of the wall and into the dark corridor beyond. Once she was sure no else was near, she teleported her soul self back to Gotham and into her own body. Upon uniting, despite her best efforts, she still doubled over in pain.

"Four minutes, and seven seconds" informed her husband. "I was beginning to worry. You weren't breathing."

"No… when the soul departs, the body dies. I believe it's what you call an '_out of body experience_' here. Would you put on some tea?" Raven watched as her husband blanched and gripped the table for support.

"Raven… I am so sorry! I had _no_ idea I was putting you life in jeopardy! I will never ask you to do that again. I am so sorry."

"My soul will fly back to my body _before_ I die, dearest. My people have been practicing this separation of soul and body for centuries. Only those who _choose_ to exist as spirits would die from this. In the early days of Azarath, many elders chose the spiritual form of existence to ensure there were enough resources for its newest citizens."

"I still have much to learn about your people."

"In time, my love… I'm afraid I am not able to provide you with the news you wish. The army's search was fruitless. Only the mundane furniture items, broken down to individual fibers remain at the Air National Guard Base. LexCorp has the rest."

"Damn! We may already be too late."

Bruce and Raven were surprised when Alfred suddenly entered the kitchen.

"Terribly sorry… came in from the garage. The traffic finally abated. Shall I prepare dinner?"

"It's alright, Alfred," responded Bruce. "We had your wonderful leftovers. Have you eaten?"

"No sir." Bruce seldom saw Alfred eat _anything_.

"We saved you some, as well. Or you can make yourself something different. Would you mind putting on some tea, Alfred? I'm sure Mrs. Wayne would love to convey recent events."

After Alfred had made tea and politely finished off two biscuits, Raven relayed the evening's events to him and Bruce in fine detail.

"With all due respect, Sir" intoned Alfred, "I don't believe Vice President Luthor is trying to detain Big Blue."

"How so, Alfred?" asked Bruce.

"Our government would seem to be aware of who currently possesses this off-world technology if it exists. It sounds like a sanctioned investigation. If something _were_ to happen, suspicion would immediately fall upon Luthor. Sabotage is something best done to someone else, not yourself," explained Alfred.

"True…" Bruce contemplated this for a moment. "Which means that Luthor _wants_ Big Blue found."


	15. Chapter 15

**XV  
Richard **

Richard Grayson had almost memorized "_Operation Corsair_" as he sat in his military apartment at Fort Hood. The plan was extremely simple…. Army Intel had provided the location of the rogue nuke. Fly in unnoticed, steal the core, and rendezvous with the aircraft carrier stationed in the Gulf of Oman. He'd steal the entire nuke if it was small enough, but he had to bring back the core.

Dick felt he could dismantle a bomb in his sleep at this point. He had frequency jamming devices, liquid nitro spray, and more tools built _into_ the suit. If worse came to worse, he carried enough HMX1 to level a entire compound if it were locked away. He was confident in the mission, whatever the outcome.

What bothered him was Bruce. The man who had fostered him, nurtured his sense of patriotism, and guided him to a life in the service had taken a wife even younger than Dick. It wasn't the age though. Billionaires marrying younger women was hardly noteworthy. No… it was the woman herself that concerned him.

What did they know of Raven? She was extremely powerful, of _that_ he was certain. It was her motives, and sometimes her sanity, that Richard Grayson questioned. She was as far removed from a gold digger as possible. From all appearances, Mrs. Wayne led a very meager existence. Then there was the story of her demon father who would destroy the Earth…

But what could Bruce Wayne do about it, even if she were telling the truth? Certainly the man was rich and powerful. But against the forces of darkness? If things such as demons existed, what good would money be against them? Not much.

Perhaps his oldest friend simply humoring a mad-girl-mystic that wore strange clothing. No… Dick was sure Bruce believed her _implicitly_. Bruce was always trying to protect the world after he had lost his parents. Few people knew the depths to which Bruce Wayne had fallen emotionally after _that_ loss. Like himself, there were times when Bruce had to hold back a tsunami of hate and anger single-handedly or go mad. For the past year, Raven had eased that burden for Bruce. He seemed… calm. So different than the Bruce Wayne Dick had known.

But at what _price_? Raven was able to manipulate Bruce's emotions, Dick knew that much. Even Dick could feel projected emotions when he got close to her. It was… creepy. Wives were always good at manipulating husbands, but this was something _more_. Could she control the man himself? Was Bruce Wayne simply a plaything for her? To what end?

Dick knew he could spin his wheels of conspiracy forever. Perhaps…just _perhaps_, two polar opposites had met and fallen in love under the strangest of circumstances.

It was a knock at the door which interrupted his reverie. When Dick opened his door, he was expecting to see one of his fellow officers. Instead, General Johnson stood in his doorway.

"Sir! Apologies, Sir! I did not know you were on your way." Richard went to an immediate salute.

"At ease, soldier. May I come in?"

"Sir, yes Sir!"

"Close the door, Captain. I wanted to give you this update in person."

Richard felt his heart drop six inches. A personal visit from a commanding officer usually meant _very_ bad news. Had Bruce?...

"Nobody's dead, son…" reassured the General. "Are you alone? Can we talk frankly? This is a matter of international security."

"Yes, sir."

"Captain, you're confident in this new suit of Wayne's?"

"Yes, sir. The prototype was designed for me. I've had the opportunity to use it several times. Works like a charm."

"Excellent. I'm afraid we're going to have to bump up the mission, Captain Grayson."

"Sir, I know Wayne Industries will have the next two suits as soon as humanly…"

"My superiors have ordered that this mission is now a _solo_ flight, for the sake of expediency. You depart at o' seven hundred. You will be briefed en route. I suggest you get some sleep, Captain."

"…Sir, yes sir!"

With that, Richard Grayson was alone.

1 HMX - Cyclotetramethylene-tetranitramine, a military explosive.


	16. Chapter 16

**XVI  
President Lane**

Even now, she wondered about him…

It had been almost five days since she had seen him and here she was prattling like a schoolgirl again (just like the time she had first laid eyes on him... _Clark_). Lois Lane had taken one of the largest gambles in her life for the one accomplishment of her presidency she would be happiest about… Lex Luthor behind bars.

But more than that, she wanted to save Clark. This was one problem he couldn't solve.

Luthor worked for Luthor and him alone. His sudden interest in The Kahndaq nuclear program had seemed… _suspicious_. Before she had entered politics, Lois Lane had been one _hell_ of a reporter. She could put together events from the smallest details, matching motives with power and history. She knew who the players were and what they were after. She knew their style of play from the cards they laid on the table. Shew knew all the tells, the body language, inflections in speech. And she was relentless when the smallest opportunity presented itself. She had made her political career exposing bad politicians. It had been surprisingly easy. But Luthor had proved impossible to pin down.

Lois was one of the most powerful players in the world. The first female president of the United States. And to her undying shame, it had taken Lex Luthor as a running mate to get her there. He had the resources to back up her promises. She had ideals and a commonality people could relate to. Luthor had money. _Lots_ of money and influence. He also had aspirations that reached far beyond the presidency. But for now, she was president. And damned if they weren't _this_ close to tying LexCorp to the rogue nuke in Kahndaq!

If there was one thing she felt proud of during her presidency, it was bringing a reporter's _intuition_ to the FBI and CIA. Once elected, she had insisted on the change from LexCorp technology to WayneNet due to an obvious conflict of interest. Lex (_of course_) had not been happy, but the change had been necessary after all… and _very_ beneficial. If she was a world-class reporter, Bruce Wayne's team were world-class information detectives. His far-reaching software could actually put the pieces together in probable motives and scenario.

And the pieces told her that Luthor had provided the nuke to Muhannad. It had been too much, too fast. They just needed the evidence.

Her man of steel had given them the final piece of the puzzle. Ears that could hear footsteps from 3 miles away had heard Luthor whisper one word that neither of them had heard before…

"_Kryptonite_"

It had taken the combined power of the CIA and FBI to figure that _one_ out. A far-off world called Krypton had exploded thirty-four years ago. Pieces of Krypton floated through space and became meteorites when entering the Earth's atmosphere - a known radioactive substance, Kryptonite. They had even located a small piece of it at the Smithsonian. That's when a strange thing happened. The greatest power in the world became vulnerable, paralyzed. Her man had a weakness.

He also had an enemy… Lex Luthor. Lois could never explain why Lex hated Big Blue. Jealousy? She had theories of course. Luthor knew that if President Lane were ever to have an 'unfortunate accident', that he too would also have an unfortunate accident. Luthor would _accidentally_ be hurled into space. His term as acting president would be limited to seconds, _although_ he would be the first man ever to visit space without the aid of spacecraft… or space suit. Big Blue was hers and she was his…. _Clark_.

No, to realize his wicked ambitions, Luthor needed to get rid of Big Blue, who was the best insurance a president could have… Lois was a mere trifle compared to the world's actual greatest super power. And now he had found a way with a strange, green, glowing rock. But how would he go about it?

She had pieced it together. Luthor's sudden interest in Kahndaq, a nuclear warhead that had _magically_ appeared out of nowhere. Would a nuclear detonation kill Big Blue? She had her doubts. But a plutonium/kryptonite core?… Her lover was as good as dead if he went to Kahndaq.

She knew Luthor was playing his hand when he revealed images of the Tomahawk Block VI sitting in an open field in Kahndaq to Congress. The Kahndaqi hadn't even bothered to try and hide it! And then there was a motion for military intervention with America's "secret weapon" that she had managed to tie up with the United Nations.

That was why she had taken the greatest gamble of her life. Luthor was pushing for Big Blue to secure the weapon. She just needed to reveal the weapon for what it was. Wayne Industries had given them a flight suit capable of the retrieval. She had enlisted the aid of Scott and Barda Free to make it look like Big Blue had dropped off the face of the planet. The greatest escape artist in the universe had to help her lover escape Luthor's mad designs. They played a very dangerous game.

Unfortunately, Luthor had become aware of her three-man retrieval plan... and he would use _any_ means to ensure it ended badly. She hated taking these gambles... but the vice president had spies _everywhere_. There were very few people that she could trust absolutely. General Johnson was one of them. She had to step up the operation under the cover of "preparation support" before Luthor became aware of her full plan. Now the success of the entire mission lay on the young shoulders of Captain Richard Grayson.

President Lane spoke a silent prayer.


	17. Chapter 17

**XVII  
Calling Kahndaq**

_The Following Is Translated from Arabic_

"Muhannad, … I have news. They will attempt to disable the weapon. The Queen of Satan has made her plans."

"…"

"You are safe. You will be fine… It's not an attack on your life, but we need _you_ to move the revenge on the false god. I can secure transport to Bialya, but it has to be within their borders before 48 hours. Rashid must not know."

"…"

"Soon. You must proceed with the transport to Bialya immediately."

"…"

"The plan is _delayed_, not changed. The heathen god will return to do the bidding of his witch-queen. _He _must find it… and not these agents of America. It must be done quickly, quietly."

"…"

"No, I don't know when or where. I will find out , rest assured. You will have weapons beyond your wildest dreams if you do what we ask of you. Our fates must be placed back into the hands of the one true God."

"…"

"Ma`a as-salāma, old friend."

_End Translation_

**Author's Note:**

**Warning** - although I have currently rated my story K+, there will be some _bad_ stuff happening... "s_ubject matter deals with mature themes_" kind of bad stuff. No worse than the comics you find on the shelves these days, I assure you. If you're reading those, have no fear and continue on. There's no depictions of sex or gory violence, but this is a story that will culminate in a _world-shattering event_. People will die.

Just saying.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Four: At the Ends of the Earth**

**XVIII  
The Man of Steel**

He sat at the bottom of the world.

_Hiding_.

Not because he was a coward. He was not. Only because _she_ had asked him to. The president. Lois Lane. The Commander-In-Chief. The woman he _loved_. He was not sure how or even why he loved her, only that he did… and that there had been no others before her. For all their differences and her frailties, Clark accepted her for all that she was. And loved her.

And so he had done this for her… _even_ if it meant leaving.

When they made love, Lois _had_ to be on top, in control. It fit her, but it was also the safest way. Clark grinned. The woman _did_ like to live dangerously. She knew perfectly well what he was capable of, yet she always believed in him, trusted him.

She called him '_Clark_'. The name the nice couple who had found him had called him… before he was taken away. She refused to call him by his code name of 'Big Blue'. _You had to be treated like a human to save humanity_, she said.

It was nice at the South Pole. _Quiet_. He liked it here. Chatting with Scott Free had also been nice. His wife, Barda stayed for a short time, but then she had to go back to Lois. That was the deal.

Did Scott know of any others like him? Were there other aliens living on Earth?

Scott told him of the powerful beings he knew. The amazons of mysterious Themyscira, the Green Lantern Corps whose power was their will shining through rings of power, the fair-haired King of Atlantis… but none quite _like_ him. Not like Clark. The Free's said they were from a world called New Genesis, governed wisely by the Highfather as opposed to its dark twin, Apokolips, ruled by the evil Darkseid.

They did not know of his home world, Krypton.

Both Scott and Clark embraced the ideals of America. They enjoyed living there. Clark had been indoctrinated early. It regulated freedom, but it still believed _in_ freedom. Democracy. The government was beginning to put down its weapons and trust him, he believed.

Great minds were allowed to create, to dream, to prosper in America. All they had to do was just get along and stop being afraid. Why was that so difficult? Scott said that people are never comfortable if they're helpless. That it would take time for the fear to become trust.

So they waited at the bottom of the world. Two aliens in a frozen wasteland. Clark told Scott that Lois believed the nuclear weapon in Kahndaq was meant to destroy him. There were individuals that wanted him out of the way.

Scott told Clark that they'd find out soon enough.


	19. Chapter 19

**XIX  
The Flying Grayson**

Captain Richard Grayson was ready.

They were flying across the Atlantic in a Lockheed Starlifter after hours of careful preparation and equipment checks. Their ETA over the Kahndaqi border was now 5 hours and he had been briefed. He would try to grab 3 hours of shut eye if he could before final suit checks.

The plan was simple. Fly in, steal the core, fly out. Don't get caught and don't get shot. Who said espionage was dead? He felt a little like James Bond, but there would be no girls and no martinis on this mission. The stealth armor was loaded with all possible specs, maps, and profiles he would ever need. He had been taken through one hundred different scenarios and their outcomes.

There was something _different_ about this warhead. No one had said it directly, but he was smart enough to know this wasn't your typical core. His commanding officers had made it simple; they wanted the core. Kahndaq was dangerous enough already, but if they had managed to get their hands on an experimental nuke, all the more reason for urgency. It _had_ to be urgent. There was no way this should have been a solo mission. One malfunction with the prototype stealth armor and this was an international incident…

And Wayne Industries would be in the world's cross hairs. As far as he knew, he was wearing the only body armor in the world that turned you invisible. Don't get caught, don't get shot. In and out... Everyone's counting on you.

Breathe, Grayson, breathe.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the short installments. Chapter 4 is a prelude to the action in Chapter 5, which will be more substantial.


	20. Chapter 20

**XX  
Barbara's Web**

It had taken Barbara Gordon a full hour to realize that searching for Big Blue was an utter waste of time. She relished the challenge of course, but there was a better way. After all, this individual was not _supposed_ to exist. He did exist of course, but he had no birth certificate, no driver's license, no financial transactions. Lots of theories, no facts.

No, the smart money was on Scott and Barda Free. They _did_ have such things as a driver's license and even green cards. They had pulled a disappearing act, but maybe they didn't go _too_ far. She had cast her net far and wide, over the entire world in fact. One transaction, that was all it would take. She worked and waited.

It was the shopping habits of Barda Free that finally gave her away two nights later. Barbara's web caught someone using Barda's account in Connecticut to purchase sunglasses. But by that point, it was too late.


	21. Chapter 21

**XXI  
The Bad Day**

Bruce awoke the next morning with Raven beside him. It was rare for her to sleep, she preferred to meditate, but she had slept last night… beside him. Her long, black hair fell across the bed sheets like a calm, midnight lake along white shores.

He knew he had a million things to do. The Barbara Gordon and Big Blue situations had taken more time than he had hoped. Still, his mind drifted to Richard. He wondered if the other two pilots suits would be ready by tomorrow. It was now down to stress tests. Lucius would get it done, he was sure. But why did he have such a bad feeling about the whole mission? Raven's words of two days ago still haunted him;

"…_Events are put into place. This ends horribly, dearest.  
The Fate that has cursed me has now conspired against you."_

Bruce had always followed Henry Ford's philosophy on the matter of outcomes;

"_Whether you think that you can, or that you can't, you are usually right." _

Bruce Wayne would determine how this ended, or do all that he could to protect those around him. If Fate chose to conspire against him, it would find a willing adversary. With that in mind, Bruce brought up Oracle and placed a call to Lucius Fox…

"Good morning Mr. Wayne. Up and at it early, I see."

"Not as early as you Lucius. How are the suits coming along?"

"Very well. We began the stress testing an hour ago. So far, so good. You could have saved us some time if you returned the cloaking sheath and hardware that you _borrowed_ two weeks ago, Mr. Wayne. When the army picked up the first prototype last night, they again expressed their sense of urgency…"

"I'm sorry…they what?"

"Expressed their sense of urgency. That's understandable, all things considered."

"Why wasn't I informed they picked up the prototype?"

"It's in your morning update, Mr. Wayne. The sale had already been approved by the board, so I didn't see a problem. General Johnson himself was here and _very_ insistent. We'll certainly include you for the next two. Be a hell of a photo op, Bruce."

"Yes… please do. Anything else I should know Lucius?"

"No sir. Right now, we're focusing on getting the other two suits ready by day's end.

"Thank Lucius… End call."

Bruce became aware that his wife watching him from the bed. Raven had awoken. As he turned to greet her, he saw _tears_ streaming down her cheeks.

"What's wrong? What happened?!" The was the first time Bruce had seen Raven upset.

"…. _**Trigon**_**!**"


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Five: A Thief In The Night**

**XXII  
Azarath**

Azar, daughter of Azar, reflected on her homeland. How like a jewel Azarath had once been, before the birth a Raven. But jewels could be dark also, couldn't they? It had been a year since Raven had left for Earth, and already Azarath seemed to be growing brighter every day, more like its old self. The great priestess of Azarath smiled.

The people of Azarath valued knowledge, the soul and understanding above all else. They were free of all negative emotion and evil, having cast these things to the Great Void ages ago. Their existence was harmonious and balanced.

Raven had been a conundrum. She had been born of innocence and evil, seduction and deception. She had been the second child to ever be birthed in Azarath. Azar, daughter of Azar, had been the first and only other. The citizens knew _how_ to procreate, but they did not feel the desire to do so. Azarathians were creatures of the spirit encased in flesh. When a citizen of Azarath journeyed onto the next world, the council would select an individual from Earth to take their place. It had been in this manner that Arella, Raven's mother, had been brought to Azarath. Twenty-two years previous, there had never been a more piteous soul alive. Yet mother and daughter had persevered. Neither would cast their evil through the Great Door to become Azarathian true, but they had embraced the philosophy and teachings of their home land.

A great clap of thunder and lightening disrupted Azar's reverie.

Thunder and lightening in Azar?...

Darkness fell across Azar as though Nyx Herself had burst through their skies. Heat, light and hope fled before Her infinite mantle of night. But this was not Nyx… this was _worse_.

Looking out her window, Azar could see _him_. His very presence would corrupt Azarath for one thousand years. Azar felt things she had never experienced before… primarily _terror_. He was immense, larger than anything in Azarath. Azar realized and then dreaded what she must do.

She willed herself to appear before Trigon as all other citizens fled the streets and sought shelter. In a flash, she stood before the enormous, red being with four eyes who reeked of evil and corruption. She summoned the courage to yell.

"Trigon… Have you come to seek peace and learn the ways of Azar? Only then shall you be welcome here."

"_Sister_…" His voice shook the buildings around her.

"You are no brother of mine, Trigon," she shouted upwards. Trigon shrank himself to a fraction of his current size so that he could look at her directly. He would converse with her at least.

"Oh, but I _am_, sister. I am the brother of _all_ people of Azarath. I am the part of their souls they cast out into the darkness. I… complete you. Learn the ways of Azar? You should ask that I teach you the ways of ALL the universe. As much as you have learned, dear sister, Trigon has learned, and done, much, _much_ more."

"We do not desire your teachings, Trigon."

"Yes, you prefer your fairy-tale _ignorance_. But I seek my daughter. She is of age to join her father now. Oh, and also provide me with the Earth woman who birthed her, so that I may slay the cow before my daughter. It shall serve as a valuable lesson to the true ways."

"We will do no such thing, _monster_." Azar stood firm.

"How many of your people do you wish to see torn apart in front of your old eyes? Or shall I burn them alive? Or perhaps just raze Azarath to the ground? Perhaps I could pull all of Azarath _itself_ through the Great Door?..."

A thousand nightmares filled Azar at once. There was _nothing_ they could do. They had cast out the violence and evil in their souls a thousand years ago and it had returned home a thousand times stronger. She did not fear death, but did they need to die? Trigon came as a father, not a conqueror.

"Trigon, if we tell you the location of your daughter, do you promise to leave here immediately and do no harm?"

"And the cow?" Trigon smiled.

"If you promise to leave immediately and never return, this will be revealed to you."

"Put the cow back where you found her then. I _know_ she's still here. Her purpose has been fulfilled. Only those who have cast out their evil truly belong here, wouldn't you agree?"

"Mother forgive me, but this will be done if you promise to leave immediately, without harm and never return to Azarath."

"Sister, my only thoughts are of my daughter. I will do you no harm. I agree to your demands and solemnly swear."

"So be it. Your daughter journeyed to Earth one year previously, forsaking her Azarathian birthright. We will arrange for Arella to join her."

"Then I shall depart. Farewell Azar, my sister!..."

As he left through the Great Door, Trigon turned to Azar and left her with a parting remark… sealing her fate.

"Please welcome my army to your homes with open, loving arms so that you may embrace a most unpleasant and painful death. Enlighten them in the ways of peace as they feast upon your souls."

"…_Army_?..."

"Oh yes dear Azar, you have your followers, I have _mine_. I shall not harm a single of your loving peasants. A bargain _is_ a bargain, after all. But the army of Trigon the Terrible has been promised great rewards for the fool head and soul of each Azarathian presented to their lord and master. You have denied the dark ways of the universe for _far_ too long, sister…"

Azar watched in horror as a mass of _beings_, terrible in appearance and foul purpose, began to pour themselves through the Great Door. Vile, malicious glee showed on the things she thought were tentacles, wings and mouths lined with a thousand points…


	23. Chapter 23

**XXIII  
Trigon the Ravager**

He had committed all types of atrocities acknowledged by the sentient beings across the universe. He supposed he could now add fratricide and sororicide to that lengthy, _lengthy_ list. Patricide and matricide had been among his very first accomplishments. He had absorbed the dark passions of a million worlds, fools who wished to free themselves of anger, hate, lust. And like Azarath, those passions had come back to take what was rightfully theirs.

Darkness always returned, time and time again.

From just beyond the Great Door, Trigon smiled as he watched his demon hoard slaughter the peace-loving Azarathians. The fools had power certainly, but no will to harm, to kill. They only ran – or accepted their fate. His demons ripped their way through Azarath in a chaotic wave of red destruction.

She had taken the name _Arella_, but he knew who she truly was. Angela Roth, mother of his only surviving child, Raven. He had toyed with Angela Roth as he had with so many of his other _lowly_ conquests. Lust was only one of his many facets. He… supposed he should stop murdering his children (even if their crying annoyed him)… or perhaps prevent others from murdering them, but… who had saved him from such cruelty? He had wished that it could have been Raven slaughtering these moronic peace-lovers today, having embraced the hard lesson she learned from his own hands by the defiled body of her ridiculous mother. Would she enjoy it as he did?

There was always tomorrow, wasn't there?

His all-seeing eyes regarded Angela Roth. She had fought hard to save her fellow adopted citizens and now she fought to save herself - but her end was near. His demon hoards would overwhelm her soon enough, but _still_ she fought with powers the Azarathians had deemed unworthy, dangerous. She had gained _magic_ during the last twenty years! Trigon felt himself stir a little. Should he save her so that she could die tomorrow by his hand?... No, let the lads have their fun.

Trigon watched as Arella suddenly - _stopped_.

Had she accepted her fate? Fallen to utter defeat? Would she beg for her life and give him _whatever_ he desired? Even the demons seemed to ponder this question as they stood still before her in murderous anticipation. And then, in a black plume of smoke, she disappeared... Could she plane-walk like his daughter? Had she grown _this_ powerful?!

No matter.

He knew where she would be. Like any good mother, she would be with her daughter. It was noble that she wished to die by his hand. And he had thought long-and-hard on the manner of her death and the gruesome lesson it would provide his daughter. Perhaps the lads might be so kind as to retrieve a few corpses so he could re-enact it for them again. They did like a good show.

Getting to Earth would not be easy though... That dimension's soul barrier was incredibly strong. To travel to the blue planet at full strength, he would need an equal number of souls exiting as he was entering. He had collected so many souls over the past centuries that he needed a _very_ large door when passing through dimensional soul barriers.

Luckily, he already had someone on the other side…


	24. Chapter 24

**XXIV  
Moments Ago**

Bruce immediately went to his wife, crumpling beside the bed. For the past year, Raven had been the most stoic, detached person he had ever known. Suddenly emotion _poured_ from her so that he too felt the panic, the urgency that had gripped her. There had been moments when he believed himself to be married to someone void of the common passions of humanity. He had been _terribly_ wrong.

The tears that flowed from Raven preceded heart-breaking screams of anguish. Within seconds of her first tear she had collapsed into a ball on the floor, saying that one terrible word, over and over again, clutching the bed spread until it was pulled down with her. Wayne held her as tight as he could as madness attempted to tear her free of her body… waves of raw emotion pulsed through her to his core. He was suddenly fearful that her sanity might snap, that anguish would overcome her, that she would never come back to him. Or take him with her.

And then he feared for the both of them, so _overwhelming_ was her sorrow and terror. And he remembered why she feared her emotions. Because she would become like her father. Her dark self would be revealed and tear away the barriers between worlds.

Then, with a snap, Raven sat bolt upright. Her eyes stared intensely ahead, but her mind was elsewhere. She cast her gaze across countless realms, piercing dimensions. Finally, she uttered a word…

"_Mother_…"

With her two words, Bruce was able to piece it together. Raven's mother lived in the realm of Azarath. Had Trigon returned to Azarath? Was he threatening her mother? He knew he would not be able to prevent Raven from leaving him at that moment. He knew what he had to do. He took her firmly by the shoulders and stared into her indigo eyes until he reached a shred of her vast consciousness that have traveled beyond this world.

"You… do not… go _anywhere_… until… you put on… _my_ cloak. Twenty seconds, Raven."

Like a flash, Bruce Wayne dashed to the closet and pushed aside a year's worth of tailor-made Italian suits to remove the gift _specially_ made for her. It was based off of her own cloak and dress that she had worn when first they met. But it had one great advantage.

It could turn her _invisible_.

When Wayne Industries had developed the stealth suit, Bruce couldn't help but think of the possibilities this opened up for his wife. She could teleport _anywhere_. But to teleport anywhere and be invisible at the same time…

"Put this on, Raven. Quick. It will make you invisible. Save her."

Incredulously, his wife listened and slipped on his stealth cloak. It fit well.

"It's very simple to use. Tape the left raven-head brooch that holds your cloak and you're invisible."

Wayne watched his wife's delicate hand reach across and tap the button. And then, like magic, she disappeared.

"It works. Go, save her Raven." He smiled in the direction where he thought she would be.

Letting her go alone was hard… what followed was unexpected.


	25. Chapter 25

**XXV  
Operation Corsair**

Captain Richard Grayson was in _his_ element above the dry skies of Kahndaq. Final checks on the suit had been great, and now he was flying solo towards the target. The latest intel had informed him that the nuke was now on the move, towards Bialya.

If they knew he was coming, they hadn't bothered to post much of a guard. Satellite imagery had shown that the missile was being transported by a very small convey. It was possible Muhannad wanted to keep it on the move for fear of air strikes. It was also possible that Bialya was the final destination all along. He'd let army intelligence figure that out _after_ he had retrieved the core.

The suit flew like a dream. Besides being invisible, it also produced very little noise. They had timed the operation at 04:00 so that the darkness would cover the disassembly work he had to do. The darkness would also allow him to walk fifty feet so the enemy wouldn't hear him coming.

From overhead, he saw the caravan through his night vision. Thirty men camped along the desert sands if the infrared was correct. Five trucks and one trailer covered in camo-tarp. The tarp wouldn't be an issue as there was ample room for him to operate beneath it. The closest guards were about twenty feet from the target. He would have to be quiet.

Even though this was a nuclear weapon, tactics had advised him that a full-on assault may prompt the Kahndaqi soldiers to launch the weapon or (even worse) detonate it. It would be the biggest suicide bombing in history as the entire country would pay the price. _Don't think about it, Grayson_. Grab the core and get out.

Richard landed behind a dune and began his approach towards the conspicuous trailer. He chose his path to place as much distance as he could between himself and the guards. He was glad the desert was very dark tonight. He brought up the specs in his view-field for the Tomahawk Block VI with all the steps required to pull the core from this large missile. Each of his index fingers were equipped with laser torches capable of cutting through its metal exterior like melted butter. It would be just like Christmas. Once he had the core, he would have to fly very, _very_ carefully.

Richard ducked under the tarp, angling his acrobatic body to avoid the tension wires. A quick scan didn't reveal any hidden motion sensors or trip alarms. Dick approached the warhead like a doctor approached a patient on the operating table. His mind went over the steps required for extraction, looping like a reel. Before he began, he cast one last quiet glance backwards to make sure everything was calm. So far, so good. Time for surgery.

Breathe Grayson, breathe.

Months into the future, the plans for this bomb would surface. Few minds could conceive of, and enact a device of such terrible proportion and purpose… surely the design of the preeminent evil genius of human history. It had _never_ been designed to launch, only to lie in waiting for its intended target, an alien from Krypton. It had been designed as a trap, nothing more.

Richard would never know how closely the laser torches in his gloves resembled the heat vision of Big Blue, or that this kryptonite/plutonium core only an arm's length away was never meant for him. Or how the internal lead shielding lining the hull hid micro-trip-wires to the detonator…

By the week's end, the entire world would know the fate of Richard Grayson. For reasons he would never have a chance to know, his last thought was of Barbara Gordon's fiery red hair...

A mushroom stem of light, fifty times brighter than the sun, punched its way through the night sky. In cities hundreds of miles away, groggy citizens wondered why the sun seemed to rise so early. Above the forming mushroom cap, three massive, circular vortexes expanded like gigantic cloud rings across the desert sky while a mile below them sand turned to molten glass. The thirty men of the convoy evaporated, wiped from existence. Three hundred more Kahndaqi slept in a small village two miles away. They were swept into the desert by flesh-melting winds.

Green phosphorescent light, like the rise of a demon sun, lit the sky until dawn.

**Author's Note:**

_**WHY?! **_

Why does Robin have to die?! Well, he doesn't always _have_ to die. In the comics, Richard Grayson lives on as Nightwing and even Batman from time to time. He's fine.

In my story though, he _does_ die. It's necessary. This is Bruce and Raven's story. The events of this chapter drive Bruce Wayne closer to the edge of sanity where he will take the fate of humanity into his own hands and exact terrible revenge...


	26. Chapter 26

**XXVI  
Elsewhere**

Azar had one basic rule; once you left… you never returned.

Whatever she had held sacred in her heart moments ago was swept away under a thousand cries of terror and anguish. Her home realm was _dying_. Raven Wayne knew this. She was the most powerful empath on the planet and even across the dimensions, the emotional ties were too deep to ignore. A giant, black wave of pain and suffering had swelled across worlds to come crashing down on her, dragging her into its sea. She was close to drowning under its sheer, frantic terror.

Her mother's anger had brought her to the surface. Arella, in deadly jeopardy, fought on. It was Bruce's piercing gaze that had allowed her to reach the shore of sanity. He was resolute, a rock in a sea of emotion crashing upon her battered shore. He had given her an _outfit_, like the one she wore when she had first reached Gotham, but different…

Invisible. Could she be invisible? And then - she was.

Her love had saved her. She grasped across all fear kissed him full on the mouth as she had _longed_ to do countless times before. It was her first _true_ kiss - and she wanted to share it more than anything with this man… to lose herself in the sensuality of lips and breath.

After his initial shock, Bruce responded in kind. New passions ignited in her, a storm of emotion lit firestorms igniting her soul. He had been taken aback at first. Had he been _surprised_ that she had been so bold? Had he been unaware of the passions in her heart that she struggled to suppress every moment of their time together?

It wasn't until after the kiss that she realized that she had been _invisible_ the whole time. He had never saw it coming.

"Our fate is shared, my love. I _will_ return."

With that, Raven departed. She teleported across the planes of darkness, despair and incomprehensible mysteries. Other things traveled in the space between worlds, aware of the tragedy she shifted towards. A part of her soul felt these strange beings alongside. The other part was kindred.

Raven appeared behind her mother Arella in Azarath. The site before her was _horrid_ devastation. Terrible things; made of bats, spiders and squids stood before her. They seemed to _feel_ her presence, but didn't know what she was. Her mother, exhausted to the point of collapse, also felt her presence and stopped.

"I am here mother. We _must_ depart." Raven gripped under her mother's arms to support her and that was when _it_ happened.

Azarath was the mystic's heaven. Once a part of the soul was cast through the Great Door, the remaining soul was bound to Azarath within its soul boundaries. Dozens of new souls, steeped in tragedy, had been brought in over Azarath's thousand years in a futile attempt to balance karma and allow deceased citizens physical form.

A true-born of Azarath was the greatest host for another soul - as they are of Azarath. Azar, daughter of Azar, the first true-born of Azarath, held the soul of her mother in harmony and love. Centuries of experience and life had resided in her, to guide the inhabitants of Azarath. Raven Wayne was the second true-born of Azarath.

With the possibility of escape, one thousand souls flooded into Raven. Arella and Raven were last _living_ inhabitants of the once, great Azarath. Raven was one of the few powers great enough to bridge the soul barrier of Azarath and travel freely through the realms.

As she teleported, one thousand lives bombarded Raven's conscious mind. She felt her own identity slip away into oblivion. It was a hard landing for her and her mother into Wayne manor as the last of her psyche drowned in a sea of Azarathian souls.

**Epilogue  
The Wrath of Trigon**

His demons of wings, tentacles, teeth, and mandibles fought for the privilege to present the trophies of the slaughter to their master. They were a _glorious_ sight, covered in the blood and bits of his creators. As promised, he had not lifted a single finger as he witnessed the slaughter. Trigon smiled as he gazed upon once glorious Azarath. There were no souls, no life remaining, as barren as the dark of space…Dead. Their hubris finally punished.

One of the largest of his demons approached and kneeled before him, dozens of severed heads lines the suckers on its tentacles. A worthy prize!

"Your deeds have appeased me. I am happy. Did you feast on the souls of _all_ these fools?" The demon stared at him, befuddled. True… they were brutal, effective killing machines, but they were _stupid_. No matter, so long as they did his bidding.

"How many souls of the Azarath fools _did_ you consume?" inquired Trigon, uncharacteristically patient.

The demon made whirring, clicking sounds, flagellating its tentacles to-and-fro. It was a base language, but he understand it well enough. Every single soul, one thousand eternal Azarathian souls had flooded into and escaped with _the_ woman. The demon was attempting to explain more, but was cut short.

Decapitated Azarathian heads cascaded to the ground as Trigon tore the demon's own head from its body, glaring into its many eyes.

"**NOT ONE SOUL?!**"

Trigon's roar carried across the deep reaches of space. Buildings that had stood in Azarath for centuries crumbled to dust before him. The demons farther back cowered before such wrath while the six directly in front of him were liquefied, leaving only black ooze.

Trigon paused, collected himself and marveled at the head he still held in his hand. With his other hand, he gestured to the rest of his Nebu demons to draw them closer while they crouched and cowered in fear.

"Well lads, it seems the rewards will have to be postponed. You've only finished half the job. We have an old cow, _fat_ with the souls of my enemy, to fetch."

Trigon forced his will across dimensional space and, once again, began the terrible process that would allow him access into Earth.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Six: A Nation of Murder**

**XXVII  
Mother and Daughter, Father and Son**

Arella crashed hard into a room… _somewhere_ on Earth… she was certain. She had heard her daughter's voice for the first time in a year. At first, she thought it was Raven's soul self or empathic telepathy, perhaps even the last thoughts of a desperate mother about to die, longing for her departed daughter, until she felt Raven's arms around her. Tears filled her eyes when she knew that Raven _was_ there. Good Bye was forever in Azarath.

And now Azarath was gone, forever.

A man, maybe ten years younger than herself, rushed by her to grasp around the floor near her… where Raven _should_ have been.

"I assume you're Raven's mother, Arella?" he inquired.

"I am." There was a power about this man that Arella had not sensed in a long time. She regarded him carefully.

"Bruce Wayne. I'm your son-in-law, Raven's husband… Ah, there you are, my love."

Arella watched as Bruce ran his hands along an invisible body, in a bizarre act of mime. He felt his way along a pretend body until he located something and tapped it. Then the body was no longer pretend, it _was_ Raven!

"Azar be praised!" Arella rushed over and held her limp daughter. Her fears were immediately realized when she glimpsed into Raven's vacuous eyes and felt the cacophony of one thousand frightened lives stirring inside her.

"Was she hurt? Does she need medical attention?" Bruce was already on his feet and ready to aid.

"No, Mr. Wayne. Please… sit. Remain calm." Arella had to catch her breath. "She carries the souls and experience of all of Azarath inside her… Her mind is overwhelmed."

Bruce sat. "Please, tell me what happened… and call me Bruce. I'm sorry we have to finally meet under these circumstances." Bruce watched as Arella turned pale.

"_Horrors_…" with that, Arella had no more.

It was too much. Everything went black.

Bruce watched as his mother-in-law collapsed beside her daughter after saying one word. What had Trigon _done_?! He rushed over to her to examine her breathing… Good. There seemed to be no discernable injuries, although there was a good chance she was in shock. Bruce picked her up – like her daughter, she was slight – and moved her to the bed. He positioned pillows under her legs to elevate them and then covered her with the duvet, tilting her head to the side.

Bruce then moved to Raven. Her condition was similar, but _very_ different. She seemed catatonic. She made strange whimpering noises and twitched. Bruce left her on the floor with a pillow under her head. He needed Alfred…

As though his needs were broadcast to the man, Alfred walked through his bedroom door. It was rare for him not to knock first, but perhaps he had heard the hard landing…

"…Bruce… There's a _call_…"

"Alfred, thank God you're here! I'm going to need medical assistance. Raven and her mother, Arella, they're here. Something's happened to Raven! She needs help."

It was Alfred that brought up the wi-screen1 in Bruce's bedroom and accepted a call. Bruce felt his temper rise. Business be damned right now! His wife was in danger of losing her mind! They needed emergency medical attention, not halo screens.

Bruce's temper stopped mid-stream when he recognized the familiar face of President Lane on the screen. She looked upset and… _devastated_. Was she wiping a tear from her eye?

"Mr. Wayne… I wanted… to inform you personally. Bruce, I have some very, _very_ bad news... I'm afraid Captain Richard Grayson… died in the line of duty twenty minutes ago. We don't have all the details, but the nuclear device he was sent in to disarm… detonated…He was a great and courageous man, Bruce. This is a terrible, terrible day for all of us. I have to go, but I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss before all Hell breaks lose."

Blip. The call ended. The room stood still, the air around them became thick. Bruce's mind began whirling with calculations of how far away from a nuclear explosion Dick would have to be in order to survive in the stealth suit. If he were flying from the explosion… a mile? Were there structures he could have gotten behind? Were there others with him? But they only had one suit…

Bruce brought up a new wi-screen and tapped into surveillance satellites. He zoomed into Kahndaq and replayed feed from the entire country starting thirty minutes in the past. And there it was, the circle of light, white then green, visible from space. It started out as a pin prick from this distance and grew to the size of a quarter. He locked in the coordinates, zoomed in and started again. Switching to night vision, he found it - the convoy parked in the desert. He zoomed in closer.

At 04:00 local time, the blinding explosion occurred, but he didn't see Dick… Could it be that...?

Suddenly, the strange, dark part of his soul whispered to him… _he was invisible_.

Hesitantly, Bruce overlaid the transponder data from the stealth suit to the satellite imagery. He _had_ to know. He watched the dot appear and come closer to the trailer with the camouflaged tarp at 03:58:45. Watched it slip under the tarp seconds later. Then it was the longest minute of his life. He gasped when the explosion began. A light _brighter_ than the sun filled the screen. The suit was keyed to Dick's DNA. No one else could wear it…

"…_So it is true_." Alfred's voice startled Bruce. The world was all too real. He could hear the old servant's sobs behind him.

He needed Raven. He needed her to take this pain, this anger. She could save his sanity…

The dark beast of terrible purpose he had buried twenty years ago broke free. _Your little black bird can't save you now, Brucy. You and me, sonny-boy.._. _Just you and me, lad_. _Just trust me…_ _We'll make it right._

Terrible dark purpose overwhelmed him. There was no more reasoning. He needed Raven… Raven was gone. He needed… _Revenge_. The entire landscape of his soul tipped into the abyss. It was too much; his mother, his father and now Dick. _His son_. They had taken _everything_ from him. They would even take Raven. She might even be gone already. No.

The strange, dark part of his soul knew what to do.

1. WI-screen – stands for Wayne Industries screen. A holographic screen formed by free floating nano-particles in the atmosphere. These can be brought up anywhere by anyone with registered DNA by simply drawing a rectangle with your finger. The sale of this technology was the driving force and funding behind the success of WayneNet ten years previous.


	28. Chapter 28

**XXVIII  
Above Us Only Sky**

The first four days in Antarctica were… _pleasant_. Scott Free had stayed with him and told him of the worlds of New Genesis and Apokolips and his family of new gods. Clark had explained all about himself, what he could do, the White House and how security worked there. Scott would have to know that. Barda had already taken on the role of one of Lois's secret service members and Scott was to join her tomorrow. That was Clark's provision to the deal. He would go into hiding, but he wanted Barda by her side as an incognito agent until the task was complete. Barda had been surprisingly comfortable with the new role.

On the fifth day of his exile, Scott Free used his boom tube to transport himself back to Washington to join his wife and assist Lois. Clark marveled at such wondrous technology and wondered if his home world of Kypton had also produced such marvels as 'boom tubes, 'aero disks' and 'mother boxes'.

Now alone and bored, Clark had started sculpting and built an army of ice to match the terracotta soldiers of Qin Shi Huang in China. But his army consisted of eight thousand lovely memories… Memories of Lois, captured in ice.

Gathered before him, in a glacial cavern half-a-mile wide was Lois Lane, every mood, every familiar stance, every turn, every facet, in breathtaking detail. Her time at the 'Daily Planet' he knew only from images, but one hundred statues showed Lois at her first profession; journalism. There were statues of Lois with her Pulitzer, another reading a newspaper of the most fragile, translucent sheet of ice, and others at her old laptop.

Hundreds of Lois statues campaigning for office, meeting other citizens of ice, shaking hands… charming, commiserating with the common man, all in a frozen still-life. Lois writing policy, Lois addressing the Senate, Lois asleep covered in sheets of satin ice and his favorite, Lois as Aphrodite. That was more of a fantasy than a memory.

For her birthday, he would bring her here…

As he gazed upon his finished work, the call came to the micro titanium ear piece he often forgot he was wearing. It was her. She needed him to return.

His fears had come to pass, a nuclear weapon had detonated in Kahndaq. The world was on the brink. The bomb had taken the life of Captain Richard Grayson, ward of Gothamite billionaire Bruce Wayne - although only a handful of people knew this. Grayson had been a soldier… like him. Around thirty Kahndaqi soldiers and three hundred citizens had also been caught in the blast as well, but the initial detonation could have been much worse.

At speeds unknown to man, he was back in the Pentagon within an hour only to land in a beehive of activity and scheduled chaos. Soon after, he was able to watch images of the initial explosion replay on the screen, the _emerald_ hue of the pillar of atomic fire. There was little doubt now the core had been constructed with Kryptonite… as Lois had surmised.

And there was little doubt who was behind it.

_There, but by the grace of God, go I_. It was a tragedy that should have never happened. It would have been simpler to give Lex Luthor to the Kahndaqi courts. How easy it would be to personally make _that_ delivery…

Luthor had played his hand and failed. He knew the president had the combined intelligence of every U.S. agency trying their _absolute_ best to tie Luthor (or LexCorp) to this event, but with no success. Later, Clark learned that a number of LexCorp executives had been targeted by radical extremists earlier that morning, murdered within hours of the Kahndaqi explosion. Loopholes were being pulled tight with a noose. Again, Luthor was allowed to murder at will.

The president was run off of her feet, making press release after press release, confirming emphatically to a frightened world that this was _not_ war. This was _not_ a missile strike. She had been forced to adopt Luthor's version of events. That he had been correct all along… Kahndaq had been manufacturing atomic weapons in secret. This was nothing more than a terrible accident.

President Lane had pledged her country's full support to the people of Kahndaq, _if_ their government would allow UN inspectors full access. If one bomb had prematurely detonated, were there others? It would be so easy for Clark to find out, _if_ she would let him. Let him protect the interest of the world.

He had no idea where he fit in to all of this anymore. This world of diplomacy and politics.

Against all the protocol and indoctrination he had been given since he was a child… He took the skies…. From the mesosphere, Clark watched the world below him and waited. No missiles filled the skies, no explosions beneath the clouds.

The lights of humanity and the blackness of night draped across the world below. This was how the gods liked to view humanity… from above. It was simpler that way. It took him several moments to fly halfway across the world. Miles above Kahndaq, he watched radiation swirl across the cold desert, carried by provoked winds. And he _felt_ it. Even from this distance, he felt the green poison affecting him as he had at the Smithsonian.

He flew back to Washington. She would need him. The world would need him.

**Author's Note:**

The title is a line from John Lennon's "Imagine".


	29. Chapter 29

**XXIX  
Keep Calm and Carry On**

Alfred had not openly shed tears since the deaths of Thomas and Martha Wayne, twenty years ago. Bruce was like a son to him, and Richard… confident, brash young Richard, like a son as well. The had been closer to brothers, Bruce and Richard but Bruce had been like a father. Both had been denied the innocence of youth, burdened with the saddle of parental loss.

And now Richard was gone and the tears filled his eyes.

At this moment, before him stood the last of the Wayne line. Bruce, who could no longer hide the anger in his broken heart. And his wife, a mysterious, beautiful woman lying prone on the floor in the corner. Another raven-haired woman lie on the bed. Had Bruce called her Raven's mother?

"...Master Bruce. Shall I bring the medical supplies for Mrs. Wayne?" Alfred was surprised when Bruce turned to him and took his shoulders in a steely grip. For a moment he stared into the old servant's eyes.

"Alfred, look after them. There is something I have to do." With that gravelly-voiced remark, Bruce departed. Alfred called after him. Now was not the time to be alone. The _look_ in his eyes… He couldn't lose Bruce as well. That look was _madness_. Anything to get Bruce to turn around…

To no avail.

No one had ever told Alfred that grief felt so like fear.1

It wasn't until he took a deep breath that Alfred realized he had fallen to his knees. They had lost Richard. Bruce may lose himself to his own demons. But there was still Mrs. Wayne and her mother. If Raven awoke, could she help Bruce? Bring him back from the edge?

"Get up, old man," he told himself. Alfred Pennyworth rose, went to the liquor cabinet and unlocked the bottom door. There was a bottle of Courvoisier he had been saving for a special occasion but now seemed like the best time. Pouring himself two fingers worth, he raised his glass to the air.

"To you, Master Grayson. Your courage was only exceeded by your duty." With that, the old butler tipped the brandy and felt its quiet fire travel down his throat, re-igniting a small part of him, something resembling courage. It would be easy to stay here and drink himself into a stupor, but now was not the time for drunken old men. His father's words came back to haunt him…

'_Keep Calm and Carry On_.'

It was an expression from the war that seemed appropriate given what had befallen them. With that, Alfred made his way to the bedroom. Desperately trying to shake off the effects of shock, Alfred forced himself to re-examine the situation. A woman in her early forties lie on the bed – locked in what seemed to be a nightmare, muttering incomprehensibly. Mrs. Wayne lay on the floor in a strange costume that Alfred had never seen. Her condition however, looked familiar. Ages ago, he had visited his niece Daphne in England who, unfortunately, had suffered from catatonic schizophrenia. He had had the misfortune to have been present during one of her early bouts. The resemblance was uncanny.

Like many eccentric billionaires, Bruce kept a small pharmacy on-site in the mansion. Unlike many billionaires, Bruce did not abuse the prescription drugs he had access to. He had devoted himself to fitness, to performance. Physically, Bruce Wayne was as healthy as an ox. But the man's psyche had never recovered after the loss of his parents, emotions ran _too_ deep in Bruce.

Alfred considered the risks of sedating Mrs. Wayne, considering her _mixed_ ancestry. When she began to spasm on the floor, he placed pillows around her to prevent injury and made his decision.

On the way to the medical room, Alfred brought up Oracle to get the appropriate dose of haloperidol for a woman of Mrs. Wayne's size and then selected the appropriate dermal patch. Alfred was a qualified first aid responder with a wealth of knowledge even if modern medical technology and wi-screens made it almost redundant.

On his way back to the bedroom, Alfred brought up Bruce's location. Secretly, he did this often. As a butler, it was always best to keep track of where your employer was - from a service perspective of course. While in Wayne manor, Alfred could predict Bruce's wants and needs just by his location and mood.

But this was different.

Oracle pinpointed Bruce in the caves _below_ the manor. This was a place Alfred had no access to, hidden behind two feet of steel and concrete. Wayne manor was built on a system of extensive caves which had been converted into Wayne's private bunker. In his younger days, Bruce had deposited systems and prototype weapons in these caves. It was an arsenal of death. Wayne Industries had its secrets. The best kept was that Bruce Wayne was more than a billionaire – he was a very dangerous and powerful man who stored weapons too deadly to be handed over to the world in his basement.

If they were lucky, Bruce was only screaming at the darkness, loosing rage to the colony of bats who lined the caverns. However, if he was not…

Alfred shuddered.

As he re-entered the bedroom, there was little change in his two female charges. Carefully, he applied the patch to Mrs. Wayne's neck and waited until she seemed to calm down. Then, with some degree of effort as he was no longer a young man, he managed to place her on the _very_ large master bed, close to her mother and brushed the ebony hair from her face... Side-by-side, there was no doubt they were mother and daughter. Raven-haired with a gentle demeanor, both exceedingly beautiful although somehow tinged with sadness.

With Raven comfortably settled, he took Raven's mother's hand – _gently_, as he did not want to startle her or suddenly wake her from her trauma. However noble and gentle his contact, it was enough. Alfred was suddenly drawn into Arella's nightmare…

1. C.S. Lewis paraphrased "A Grief Observed"


	30. Chapter 30

**XXX  
Innocence Lost**

Alfred's consciousness floated above a scene from Arella's past.

She was sharing this with him so that he felt like a sort of dream spectator. As Ebenezer Scrooge had been presented with the shadows of his life by the ghosts of Christmas, so too was Alfred now being presented with the life of Arella.

He hovered above a group of bedraggled youth in a rundown tenant of Gotham, chanting around strange symbols painted on the floor in some bizarre millennial ritual. A young Arella, or Angela Roth as she was called then, stood in the center. Except for the curl in her hair, she could have passed for Raven at this age. Alfred could feel the tension in the air, the dark ambition of youth combined with the brashness of gamblers.

Alfred watched as dimensions suddenly parted, and a handsome, golden man stepped through into the world. He felt Angela's pride and fear as the stranger – a perfect physical specimen - took her by the hand, smiled and led her to the bedroom, as in a dream. Alfred did not follow her. He stayed in the room with the sniggering children, dreaming of their dark rewards, _oblivious_ to the obvious.

Once used, Angela Roth was left discarded, unconscious in the bedroom. Alfred watched as the young disciples (whom Angela later believed had deserted her) obediently followed Trigon into the void beyond to meet an early, terrible demise. This was the reward of fools.

Alfred jumped to an alley four months later. Somehow, Angela had learned the terrible truth and feared what was growing inside her. Trigon was the scourge of a thousand worlds. She now sought to end her life, and the life of Trigon's unborn child. But as the devil had appeared before her, she was now visited by an angel, a matronly angel named Azar. As the most desperate soul on Earth, Angela had been granted access to Azarath, to be its next citizen and become Arella, '_messenger angel_'.

Months passed and Arella lay in the birthing bed while the skies of Azarath turned black and a cold chill embraced the land. The second native child of Azarath was born and there were some that believed this was an evil omen. Some believed that Arella had not cast out her negative emotions and desires, but instead expelled them during childbirth into a daughter named Raven.

Alfred then found himself in a scene ten years later as Raven studied with the great priestess, Azar. Learned to control her emotions and suppress the passions and hatred her father thrived upon. Her entire existence was a journey to distance herself from her father and all he represented. Still, she was scorned, avoided, ostracized due to her parentage.

Finally, Alfred viewed Arella's memories from today. A giant red figure, full of wrath and fire standing at the border of Azar. Then an onslaught of… _things_, terrible to describe, tearing apart humans like wolves let loose on lambs. He felt Arella's terror, but also her tempest of rage… resistance. She fought - the only soul in Azar to fight.

It was then that he was released from the shared visions to find Arella staring up at him. She began to explain…

"Please understand that Azarathians viewed their bodies only as mere containers of consciousness. True consciousness is _far_ greater than flesh and blood. Trigon chose his army well… these demons tore apart the body only to free the soul... Like a walnut.

They _eat_ souls.

A thousand conscious Azarathian souls, terrified for their immortal lives, fled into the only safe harbor they could find…

The entire collective of Azarath, one thousand lives, each hundreds of years old… now reside in my daughter. Her brief twenty-two years buried beneath millennia."

**Author's Note:**

Another of those back-fill chapters for readers not familiar with Raven's (and Arella's) background.


	31. Chapter 31

**XXXI  
The Plot Against**

Kadar Muhannad sat securely in his bunker, attended only by his generals. He cursed the serpent Luthor and his venomous _gift_. The holy, morning skies of Kahndaq had been poisoned by its pestilence. The initial blast had only killed hundred, but its taint would kill many thousands more… in time.

"Commander," spoke one of his generals. "We believe this was a plot by the Zionists. Luthor has been working for them from the start! Had their bomb reached Bialya, we would be at war with one of our closest allies!"

The general spoke with wisdom. Surely, it had been Luthor's instructions to transport the weapon to Bialya? The bomb had malfunctioned and foiled Luthor's plans. Had Luthor also given Bialya a weapon?

"General, get me President Rashid. We must warn him of this Zionist plot immediately."

A wi-screen appeared. After pushing his way through numerous underlings and Bialyan generals who answered the call, Muhannad was finally able to get Rashid to appear.

"Commander Muhannad... the people of Bialya grieve for your tragedy. I also grieve for the tragedy that has befallen you."

"The people of Kahndaq are blessed by your prayers, Mr. President. But I must warn you that this was a Zionist plot. We are the victims of lies and conspiracy. I pray that the people of Bialya have not been deceived and are not at risk."

"This was not an accident?"

"No Rashid, this was _no_ accident. The Zionists have numbered among their ranks Lex Luthor – I _curse_ his name! His agents delivered this weapon to us. It was to be used against our common enemy, the false American god. This the men of Luthor swore by Allah to me. Yesterday, these men told my generals to move the weapon to Bialya, that they would have people waiting there to _hide_ the weapon."

"You are saying there are traitors with me, Muhannad? What proof do you have?"

"I am forwarding you their very names taken from my generals, Rashid. You will find _all_ the names you desire. By Allah's providence, I discovered this plot and stopped their journey to Bialya. I ordered my men to leave the weapon in our lonely deserts and abandon their path to Bialya. They were to return immediately, but … it was not Allah's will. We will honor their sacrifice."

"History has taught us to never trust the Americans, my friend."

"You speak with great wisdom, of course. Luthor knew of my great hatred for the false god of the Eagle… His man swore by Allah that our cause was united! That Luthor too _hated_ the god of the Americas! I praise _all_ that is holy that my blindness was lifted _before_ Luthor's poison gift was brought to the lands of my neighbor. The Americans only hated our friendship, that we were brothers under God."

"Allah be praised. I will review this file. Men will be questioned. The truth will be revealed. I will allow no lies, Kadar. Rest assured. Again, Bialya prays for the future and health of your country."

"Ma`a as-salāma, wise friend."

As the screen popped off, Kadar Muhannad smiled. He knew that Luthor _truly_ hated the false god. He knew such things... But Luthor was far too clever. Had the American intended for the false god to discover and then detonate the weapon in Bialya all along? It would be easy for Luthor to blame Kahndaq and poison the trust of the neighbors... Scorn would surely fall on him and his nation.

The people of Kahndaq were victims of American treachery.

But they were far from powerless _if_ the old legend were true.

**Author's Note:**

Can you guess who the "_old legend_" is that Muhannad is referring to?


	32. Chapter 32

**XXXII  
New World Order**

By noon, sixteen people had been quietly assassinated by the order of Lex Luthor. No one could be left to tie LexCorp to the nuclear weapon that had detonated in the deserts of Kahndaq hours ago, or as he liked to call it, '_Clark's Regret'_. Of the six Bialyans in Luthor's employ, two had been captured by their government… _Unfortunate_. This told him that Muhannad had betrayed him. He expected no less of course. The important things now were evidence and credibility. Muhannad had neither and Bialyan assassins were incredibly cheap.

His files had built-in auto-destructs. Any evidence of the LexCorp involvement had gone up in electronic smoke an hour ago. Already his PR team was putting together the news release that – _as he had maintained from the_ _start_ – Kahndaq had been working on their own atomic weapons. His analysts were reshaping the meme relativity index to his favor. This tragedy was the result of a faulty detonator combined with inadequate storage and covert transportation in the wake of UN inspectors as requested by the president. Kahndaq was trying desperately to hide the weapon in the desert with no experience on the care and handling of such a dangerous and sensitive weapon. If only the UN and America had moved faster on their request for inspection and intervention…

He had considered arming himself with concealed Kryptonite, but that would have shown a lack of faith in the whole process. He would not fear the alien. If Lois was able to tie him to the weapon, so be it. He would concede. But if his information was correct, she had precious little time to make her case.

But now it was time for Muhannad…

In Kahndaq, Commander Kadar Muhannad was busy putting together his speech to the darkened nation. As he penned his final touches at his desk, a man quietly entered his office from the darkened hall behind him – and quietly raised his pistol – aimed - then fired at an oblivious Muhannad… a mere fifteen feet away.

The shot was heard throughout the compound. The assassin expected his commander to collapse across freshly penned papers, blood mixed with liar's ink, but instead he was stunned when Muhannad calmly grabbed the pistol from his writing desk, turned in his chair, and stared back at him... Had he missed?! He fired again. This time, Muhannad smiled, unharmed.

"General Al-Rawy, my old friend," spoke Muhannad to his general. "I had _suspected_, of course. Did you think I learned nothing from great Caesar? Never give your senators knives or your generals _real_ bullets. Allah be with you, old friend."

With that, the leader of Kahndaq shot one of his oldest friends in the gut. Seconds later his guards poured in, pointing their assault rifles at the wounded general, defeated, moaning on the floor.

Muhannad lit a new cigar, looked up and addressed his guards.

"If he lives… strip him and return him to his family. The time has come to assemble the rest of my generals in the board room. I will present my speech to them, and show them how the champion of Kahndaq will step from the ashes of time to tear out the throat of Satan across the world. When the last word is spoken, each of you is to kill the remaining generals. If Al-Rawy could be bought, so can any other. The time of generals is past, my friends.

As Allah wills, it is time for a new world order."


	33. Chapter 33

**XXXIII  
Conversations Alone In The Dark**

In the caves under his mansion, Bruce Wayne stood alone in the dark.

But he was not alone.

He had his memories, his fears, his hatred to burn out the darkness. A twenty-year-old hatred that had finally grown into a man.

And now he had his parents.

The ghosts of Thomas and Martha Wayne stood before him in the shadows. They said to him that he could no longer be the frightened boy. That boy should have died in Gotham Towers twenty years ago. He must discard the boy and become the _man_. Their son must let his fear be destroyed and the man must give them final peace… what they had waited for, for so many years...

Revenge.

The souls of Gotham cried for revenge. When he closed his eyes and listened hard, he could hear them from their graves, long forgotten voices carried along the caves.

Bruce had started on the right path years ago, but the boy had strayed.

This was a man's work. Today, the man would finish his work.

Gotham would have its revenge.

Bruce connected power to a system he had withheld from the world for ten years, the culmination of Wayne Industries work on nanotechnology... the technology he would _never_ hand over to the world. The arms race had finished ten years ago. Bruce had won. He just hadn't told anyone yet.

The terrorists who had destroyed Gotham Towers all those years ago had been Kahndaqi. And now they had taken Dick.

"This is for you, son. And you, Mom and Dad." Bruce let the system whirl and spin. At Richard's funeral, his son and parents would have the revenge they deserved.

Dimensions away in the dark, Trigon smiled with pride. His daughter had chosen _well_...


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter Seven: From The Ashes**

**XXXIV  
The Champion of the Lightning**

Before he ascended the ancient Kahndaqi ruins to deliver his speech that would change the world, Kadar Muhannad confirmed with the old priests and scholars of his country that the ancient texts were indeed correct. That this _could_ be done.

That the legend of Teth Adam was more than a child's tale…

Three thousand years ago, Allah had delivered to His land a mighty prophet (said to be a wizard among the tribes) who was to choose a mighty champion from amongst the faithful. The wizard chose the son of a great chief, named Adam. A strong, noble man of faith who had gone against his father's wicked ways, Adam was granted a secret word by the prophet that would allow him to become an immortal champion of virtue.

Adam spoke the word and became the mightiest warrior. However, after hardships, the mighty Teth Adam chose to use his power for his own evil ends. He who could command the lightning, turned from the wisdom of Allah and enslaved men instead of enlightening them. The mighty Adam declared himself a god and slew any man who would not worship at his feet.

In Allah's rage, Teth Adam was struck by lightning from the blue sky and reverted once again to a mortal man. Beset with violence from his slaves, Adam begged Allah for forgiveness - for his terrible deeds and the evil he had allowed into his heart.

It is said that Adam, with his last breath, could have said the magic word that would have granted him all his powers once more, and continued as the mighty king, Teth Adam. Instead, as the sandals of those he had made slaves rained down upon him, he begged forgiveness of Allah until he could speak no more...

Kadar Muhannad looked once again at the sarcophagus before him and wondered how many other ancient skeletons with crushed skulls were found among Kahndaq. If indeed this was the remains of Adam.

But he must keep faith.

Below him stood thousands of Kahndaqi's. From atop the stone dais, Kadar Muhannad spoke into a microphone and addressed a nation.

_The Following Is Translated from Arabic_

"People of Kahndaq…

The history of Kahndaq is rich, our story one of a _strong_ people. Life for us has never been easy. Through our struggles, we have often suffered at the hands of others who believe us weak… only to suffer our vengeance when we awoke as a nation once more!

It is the folly of our enemies who believe our faith to be less powerful than their spears. If one of us perishes to their spears, do we fall on our knees before these infidels who threaten us? They believe the faith is in our blood. When our blood is spilled, so too does our faith spill out of us, lost to the desert sands with the tears of Allah. Our faith is in our soul!

Under the pretense of friendship, our enemy the Americans made deals with my formal generals. It saddens my heart, but it is true. They shamefully confessed this before taking their own lives. America provided them with a nuclear weapon, to be kept secretly in the heart of our capital. In return, they wanted only friendship and loyalty. What price did the Greeks of old demand of the Trojans for their _gift_ of the carved horse?

Would one gladly drink the wine offered by Bagoas? I am a man of history. Our forefathers have shown us the wisdom to guide our ways before God. I punished these men for their treachery and demanded this gift be returned. Just one day on its return journey, this gift claimed the lives of thirty brave soldiers in a poisonous bloom of Hell. How many more would it have claimed had it not been moved from the city?!

The Americans wish us to open our borders to inspectors.

They wish us to open our arms for their diplomats and surrender to their lies.

They want us to cower in fear before the Great Eagle. That their God has granted them a champion who justifies the evil they perpetrate on the faithful. Satan _also _bestows gifts upon those who will follow him. America has become Satan's pawn and its ruler the whore of Satan!

But Kahndaq too has a champion. A champion chosen by the prophet of Allah, bestowed of the powers of the great sky. Before me lies the remains of Teth Adam, blessed of Allah. By Allah's will, he will rise again!"

_End Translation_

Muhannad listened as a murmur spread throughout the throng before him. They knew of the old legends. Most thought him insane until dark clouds began to roll in across the sky above him. The bomb had made the weather cold and chaotic, dry desert dust begged for its blackened rain.

The commander's right hand gently grasped the three thousand year old jaw bone lying before him. A strange sensation ran along his arm… exhilaration? His heart raced as he stared to the heavens and offered his final prayer to his god above in the form of a word that had not passed the lips of mortal men in thirty-two centuries…

**SHAZAM!**

**Author's Note:**

You can't have Kahndaq without Black Adam. It just isn't done.

P.S. This version of Black Adam's 3,000-year-old origin is being reinterpreted from a Muslim perspective by Muhannad.


	35. Chapter 35

**XXXV  
The Fall of the House of Wayne**

If even the _unverified_ news of Dick's death had come as a physical blow to Barbara, she knew it must have absolutely destroyed Bruce. No calls from him for an entire day after the sudden news of the atomic explosion only deepened her concern. She was putting pieces together in her mind that she _prayed_ weren't true... And with each thought the knot in her stomach tightened.

Numerous calls and messages to her boss the next morning remained unanswered. Even Alfred didn't answer her calls. She hated to intrude upon their privacy… or grief, but her genuine fears for their well-being overrode any sense of impropriety. Waiting was simply not her style.

If Dick were truly dead… If he was… She held that thought and left instructions with her managers while she departed. She had to know.

The gray of the autumn sky cast a dark foreboding over her drive to Wayne Manor. If it _were_ true… if it were… she wasn't sure this was something they could recover from.

Having checked in with security at the mansion, Barbara rang the bell and waited. She had confirmed with the guards that Bruce and Alfred were indeed at home. She waited a moment more in silence… _no answer_. Finally, she accessed Oracle to bypass the lock on the front door.

As she entered Wayne Manor, she felt as Poe entering the House of Usher. There was a palpable melancholy that filled its large, lonely hallways. The gloom was almost tactile. It was as though the spirit of the house itself had died. That alone confirmed her worst fears. After surreal moments of wondering disregarded corridors, Barbara finally found Alfred alone in the kitchen. The old servant was trying to hold himself up… He looked _haggard_.

"Mr. Pennyworth?... Are you alright?"

"Miss Gordon… I'm sorry… I wasn't expecting you… I'm so sorry…So many memories…" Alfred stumbled on legs that could barely support him as he stepped towards her.

Barbara could bear it no longer. She took Alfred into her arms and held the old gentleman in a tight embrace, cradling his head into her shoulder while he released the tears he had fought to withhold. She held him in gentle arms that were stronger than any he had known, with a spirit of nobility that lent its hand to the old servant's soul, to lead him gently away from the abyss, back to her… to the living.

Tender moments later, she carefully guided him to a chair and poured him a glass of water. With the voice of a stubborn daughter, she told him to drink and began to prepare a small plate of bread and cheese from the fridge.

"Where is Bruce?... Mrs. Wayne?" she inquired of the faithful servant as he gratefully acquiesced to her simple meal. It was the first thing he had tasted sine Courvoisier the day before.

"I'm afraid Master Bruce has secluded himself in the caves below the mansion. And Mrs. Wayne had suffered some great emotional trauma and is under the care of her mother. Both of them have remained in the bedroom since yesterday. I've been of very little use to anyone, Miss Gordon… I _begged_ him not to leave."

"We'll work on Bruce after I've made some soup. Now, where do you keep the vegetables? And let's turn on some lights, shall we?"

"Miss Gordon, _please_, allow me…"

"Alfred, if you so much as _try_ to get up off that seat, I will belt you." So it _was_ true, Dick was gone. She would cry tears in private… but first she had to be strong for Alfred and Bruce.

As he watched Barbara prepare the meal, Alfred was amazed by her fluidity and grace. If not for the tragedy-born scars upon Bruce Wayne's psyche, the old servant had no doubt who would have been the red-haired mistress of this grand estate. Despite Bruce's seeming disinterest in romantic affairs, Barbara was not a woman you could overlook for long...if indeed at all.

A tear welled in his eye when he remembered the secret hopes he had harbored for Richard and Barbara after Bruce's sudden marriage to Mrs. Wayne.

Raven Wayne was a lovely night-blooming flower who preferred the shadows. She possessed tremendous powers that she hid from the world beneath mysterious cloaks, held tightly in the clutch of fear. He had no doubt she loved Bruce, but there was always the question of whether he was simply her ally… or she his wife.

In Barbara Gordon, there was strength, love and determination. The only question he had of Barbara was how Bruce Wayne had managed _not_ to get into a relationship with this amazing woman before he had ever met his wife. There were _dark_ parts to Bruce Wayne's soul that had regrettably overshadowed the brightest parts of what the world held for him. Watching this lovely young woman weave her way around the Wayne kitchen, Alfred sighed.

"…I have no idea how he's managed to resist you all these years, Miss Gordon," he remarked suddenly.

"That makes two of us, Mr. Pennyworth," she replied while adding sliced vegetables to the broth boiling on the stove. The rustic aroma cast aside the tendrils of despair that had filled the house since yesterday. Hope had returned to the kitchen.

"Trust me… it hasn't been easy," replied a deep, ragged voice from outside the doorway. "Smells great, Barbara. I can't even remember when I ate last."

Both Alfred and Barbara turned their heads, exclaiming in unison… "_Bruce_!"

Before them stood a disheveled Bruce Wayne, squinting against the kitchen lights, a face full of stubble and carrying the reek of bat dung… but impressive none the less.

"_Sorry_," he sheepishly offered to his two friends, "I had some things to take care of. You two go on, please. I'm going to go have a shower, shave, and then check on Raven. Then I'm going to come back down and have some of that fantastic soup. Unfortunately, we do have a funeral to plan. Barbara, I would truly love it if you could stay and help us through all of this."

Barbara felt the flush of her cheeks as they betrayed her once again.

"Of course, Bruce. Anything I can do to help."


	36. Chapter 36

**XXXVI  
Drowning in the Sea of Id**

Abject Terror.

She was drowning while a thousand thrashing bodies prevented her from reaching the surface. No one wanted to save the other, only themselves, and only one could emerge. She fought against an army of insane limbs, tiny glimpses of the light above suddenly revealed before the next appendage took it all away.

Deeper. She was forced deeper. Darker.

They all seemed to die at once. Bodies cascading past her, their eyes wide in misunderstanding and wonder, falling deeper into the depths. She let them fall, staring only above. To the Light.

Light mattered now.

Her soul could fly. Had she forgotten? But this was not the bird she was becoming… This was new… long and lean… powerful. She was a dragon. A dragon whose coils cut through the tides, past bodies alone in the sea. A dragon of shadows, the shadows of her soul. She did not fear the dragon, she _was_ the dragon.

Breaking from the ocean's dark surface she flew into a sky of crimson on ashen wings. She was strong… she was _free_.

Her own feelings overwhelmed her. She… who had shared the joy of a mother she had never known, the ecstasy of young lovers in a flowered field twenty leagues away… finally unlocked her own joys and sorrows and reveled in them, like a laughing child.

Let the fear drown in the ocean below. Her love propelled her through the skies, her joys spiraled her around wisp-clouds of warm scented promise. All was within her grasp.

And on the barren shore, a small figment of the past. A woman, old… alone. She could fly beyond, escape. She could devour the crone, to silence the growing hunger inside her.

But she landed in a great coil before this old woman. Raising her serpentine head, she stared into the old woman's eyes… a familiar shine.

"This is your _true_ form, Raven," spoke Azar, mother of Azar. "You are your father's daughter, there is no doubt. But unlike him, you are _whole..._ second daughter of Azarath.

We were fools to cast off the things that were our birthright, our dark passions. Our history is a story half told, while the deeds of Trigon completes us. We are two sides of the same destiny. You are our _fate_, Raven."

"My fate is my own," spoke the dragon.

"Now you are free. This is true. If you choose to fly through the edge of sky, Azarath is lost. The daughter of Trigon awakens and the dragon rules by the side of her father."

"_Never_," hissed the dragon.

"Through the path of sky, you become one and one only. One will not defeat Trigon. As Raven, you are legion. You are Azarath and all that Azarath is, was and will be. You may complete us."

The dragon became a woman once more, no longer afraid, hair of ebony and eyes born of the nighttime azure sea. She spoke to Azar, mother of Azar, first of Azarath.

"One must defeat him, Azar," Raven spoke as she gazed across the deep, cold waters of oblivion.

"No," the old woman replied. "We must _embrace_ him. We must accept him. We must become as we truly are."


	37. Chapter 37

**XXXVII  
One Last Riddle, One Last Time**

Commissioner James Gordon surveyed the man's corpse laid out on the coroner's table. Its gruesome smile made him uneasy...

It was hard to believe that this pale, bloodshot thing had caused so much trouble six days ago - and now it lay… _grinning_. Almost as if mocking the world it had departed. It was now morning and James Gordon had been promised answers after the grim discovery of the night before. His patience grew increasingly thin as he waited alone with the unnerving cadaver. Moments later, a young Indian lady, entered the morgue.

His new coroner was even younger than Barbara...Doctor Chatterjee. They got younger every time. Or maybe it was him who was getting older.

"Good afternoon, Commissioner. A _most_ unusual case." Her English was good even if she was _late_.

"Can't say I'm surprised... Mr. Nigma was… unusual. That smile is rather _disturbing_. What was the cause of death?" Edward Nigma had been found dead in his holding cell, late last night. His request for police protection was pending. Gordon didn't know what to make of his cryptic claims of a threat to international security. Three years in the Gotham State Penitentiary hadn't done the man any favors.

"Tetanus, Commissioner… Caused by a most lethal dose of tetanospasmin1. That is why the facial muscles display _risus sardonicus_. But what was most interesting was the _method_ of delivery." Gordon couldn't fathom the young lady's excitement. To have one of Gotham's prisoner's _poisoned_… someone would be made accountable.

"How was he was poisoned?" Gordon dreaded the thought of an internal investigation... A guard? Detective? Attorney? He had hoped those days were behind them. Until 10 years ago, this practice had been all too common.

"Oh, most _ingeniously_, Commissioner. And it would have been a _most_ difficult mystery had not Mr. Nigma been so kind as to _swat_ his killer and leave the culprit attached to his neck."

Gordon glanced down at Nigma's neck and stared at the flattened mosquito trapped in dried blood. "A mosquito bite did this?!"

"Indeed. Tell me Commissioner, are you familiar HI-MEMS?"

"What do hymens have to do with all of this?" Gordon was perplexed and then slighted when Dr. Chatterjee suppressed a giggle.

"Please, allow me to bring up a screen." Gordon watched as a wi-screen popped into view in front of the coroner as she thumb-printed her identity. He was one of the few cops who even owned _books_ these days. He knew the younger cops saw him as a relic of a bygone era. The young coroner continued…

"_HI-MEMS_ are Hybrid Insect Micro-Electro-Mechanical Systems. Think of them as '_robo-bugs_'… Very hush-hush spy stuff. This mosquito attached to Mr. Nigma's neck is actually a combination of insect, micro-circuitry and poison bred to be an assassin. This flattened little girl was fitted with a micro canister of tetanospasmin1 and directed at poor Mr. Nigma."

"That evidence will need to be preserved. I'll notify the technical crimes division right away. You've done fantastic work here, Dr. Chatterjee." Gordon was impressed.

"Thank you, Commissioner. There is one more thing though… Mr. Nigma had a rather cryptic tattoo on his… _nether_ region." Did she cringe a little?

Gordon watched as Dr. Chatterjee spread Nigma's legs apart to reveal the tattoo ink hidden beside the corpse's testes. The tattoo was a riddle in small writing. Gordon leaned over and had to peer much closer than he would have preferred to …

"_The varied star,  
Montanari saw,  
It all begins,  
With the Hebrew R"_

"Do you know what it means, Commissioner? An old legend, perhaps? " With her lack of an answer, Gordon suddenly didn't feel as outdated as he had moments ago. Nigma's deathly grin seemed to ridicule them both while they pondered.

"Not yet. Luckily, I have Gotham's greatest riddle-solver on speed dial." Gordon smiled at the young doctor's quizzical look as he departed. Let her figure _that_ one out as well...

Moments later in his office, James Gordon placed the call to his daughter. If there _was_ a person who could out-riddle Barbara Gordon, he would eat his badge. He knew perfectly well who the anonymous person was who had provided the financial transactions that had linked the mayor with Nigma. And now, she could help him decipher Nigma's last riddle.

1. Tetanospasmin is a deadly neurotoxin.

**Author's Challenge:**

75 FanFic points if anyone can decipher that riddle before Chapter 45.


	38. Chapter 38

**XXXVIII  
Lightning's Resurrection**

The champion of lightning stood proud atop the ruins of Hadrha. Ages past, when last he had walked the Earth, Hadrha had stood tall and firm… The unfortunate man who had called out his word was now charred beyond recognition. Only Adam could withstand the lightning.

Teth Adam surveyed the world around him… peasants had come to watch his resurrection. Foreigners perhaps, dressed strangely and taller than the men of the past. They spoke a strange language, parts of it almost recognizable… But Adam was granted the wisdom of Zehuti so that this strange tongue soon became familiar to him. There were many things he had to teach his people.

The powerful figure of Teth Adam strode across the ruins to an old man kneeling in prayer.

_The Following Is Translated from Arabic_

"Old man, why have I been brought to your time?" Many others had also fallen to their knees.

"Mighty Adam, our enemies have brought great weapons against us. They have openly attacked us without fear of retribution under the protection of their god of the skies, the devil we call the Great Eagle."

"My people have need of me."

"Yes, chosen of Allah. Our enemies once again seek our destruction. Before the Great Eagle, we are powerless."

Adam wanted to correct the old man, that he was the chosen of _many_ gods, but even more so he wanted to hear about this being called the Great Eagle. The priest continued…

"The Great Eagle is the champion of _America_, our greatest enemy. He flies faster than the shooting star that crosses the night time sky. His eyes glow red and shoot forth beams of light that melt the strongest metal. He has the strength of a thousand men and the fortitude of a mountain. Women and children cower in fear while men curse at their helplessness before the Great Eagle."

Teth Adam turned to address the crowd. In a voice like thunder, he spoke.

"I shall deliver my land from the Great Eagle and its people will know their King. But first, prepare a great feast in my honor. Your champion hungers."

_End Translation_

**Author's Note:**

Again, the people of Kahndaq interpret Teth Adam's (a.k.a Black Adam's) origin through a Muslim perspective.  
"_The Great Eagle_" is of course Big Blue (a.k.a. Clark).


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter Eight: The Speech**

**XXXIX  
The Weight of the World**

"We can't do _that_, Clark."

Lois would never sanction what Clark felt in his heart was the right thing to do. Luthor was a criminal, a mad man, only one small step away from being the greatest despot in American history. But she would _not_ sink to Luthor's level.

"Lois, he tried to kill me. You know he did...in your heart. God knows what plans he has in that bald head of his for you… He knows my weakness. If I'm unable to protect you…"

"But never _murder_, Clark..." She buried her head into a chest that could stop armor-piercing rounds while sleep spilled over from the peripheries of consciousness once again, threatening to wash over her in much needed slumber.

"It wouldn't be murder, Lois… it would be self-defense. Let me give him to the Kahndaqi's at least, even the U.N."

"The truth _always_ comes out, Clark. Even Lex Luthor can't hide from it forever. And then he will be revealed… Lover, your lady's fading fast, it's been 37 _tough_ hours…"

President Lois Lane had had a very long day, a longer night with the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and then the longest day of her life in front of the world and their cameras again. The second night had now fallen and she needed _sleep_. Tomorrow would be another day of crisis, but she had to make sure Clark wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the precarious balance of the world's shaky peace in the meantime.

With Clark now by her side, the president surrendered herself to slumber. The nights without him had been difficult. She had lost a soldier, but her love was still beside her.

For Clark, he found sleep impossible these nights. He had visions of corrupt would-be assassins roaming the halls of the White House, kryptonite knives in hand, waiting to catch him unaware. He wondered what Luthor's next move would be, to what depths he would sink to seize the reins of power.


	40. Chapter 40

**XL  
The Man Who Fell To Earth**

Two hundred and fifty miles above the earth, the eight-mile-wide CERN low-orbit satellite housed the most powerful particle accelerator ever created. By far, the largest structure in the sky, its massive circumference was visible as a small white ring from the surface of the Earth. A rotating crew of twenty astronauts and scientists manned the enormous, zero-gravity space station capable of separating matter from anti-matter and isolating Higgs boson particles.

How surprised these scientists were to view a strange spacesuit floating outside of their air locks. The members of the CERN space station were perplexed. The suit may have even damaged their external satellite equipment as they were suddenly unable to broadcast.

They all knew that early explorers had ejected trash in old suits to burn into the earth's atmosphere. Had one accidentally achieved orbit? If so, it would be extremely dangerous to impact something like that spinning around the Earth at 15,000 miles an hour. The impact would be capable of destroying a satellite should it be left out there.

The decision was made to retrieve the suit. Doctor Gregor Markewitch volunteered for the mission. Within thirty minutes the suit was retrieved.

Ten minutes later, everyone aboard - _excluding_ the mysterious stranger and Gregor Markewitch - were executed.

The man in the strange spacesuit, David Cain had never performed wetwork at zero gravity before. He had been extremely careful to keep his spacesuit intact but had still managed to have a little fun. He met back up with Markewitch at the storage compound.

"Nineteen in total, Gregor?" asked the assassin.

"Yes, Mr. Cain. There were nineteen others. That was extremely quick."

"We're on a schedule, Gregor. I did not expect to be left floating in space so long."

"Yes, I apologize for that. Bureaucracy. The storage compartment in your suit, please open."

Dr. Markewitch then shifted over to an elaborate control panel disabled the locks on the satellite's zero-degree storage chamber and slowly removed a highly-labeled canister from it. With the utmost care, he slid it into the back of Cain's spacesuit and initiated the powerful magnetic device it held. With a slow exhale, he released a lifetime of tension.

"My mission is accomplished, Mr. Cain. Quickly and cleanly - _if you would_." From behind the solar shield of his spacesuit, David Cain smiled at the old scientist and then put a bullet through his brain. Members of the League were prepared to pay the ultimate price. Markewitch was certainly no exception.

Cain made a final check of his suit and proceeded back to the airlocks. This incredible height had made him a little reflective. This truly was the view of the gods. Somewhere 250 miles down, just west of the blue of the Atlantic Ocean, the American president would be speaking.

"Just like jumping out of a satellite," he said to no one but himself. No one could hear him in this monkey-suit anyways. Funny… some of the first astronauts were monkeys. Had they gazed at the Earth below as he did? He wondered if he could train a monkey to kill? Would have turned out better than his _daughter_…

David Cain really didn't much care for living anyway. He was _well_ past his prime and constantly watching the rooftops for the sniper rifles he believed followed him wherever he went. He was the ghostwriter of human history, content to let the League of Assassins sign their name to his masterpieces of 50-caliber artistry.

David Cain killed people. Period. He didn't enjoy the killing part so much as the challenge of it. Killing someone was easy. Any fool could do it. Killing the president of the United States of America days after a nuclear weapon had detonated in Kahndaq?... _That_ was a challenge.

No one could ever connect the vice-president to the green-light application or the four hundred million dollars that had been deposited into the League's accounts when Cain's light turned green…but he _had_ to be behind the hit. Luthor was going to get _much_ more than he bargained for, courtesy of the League.

You could really see the curvature of the Earth from up here. He watched as a corpse floated by him and off into space, the blood from its back forming weird frozen globules at this gravity.

"Sorry I couldn't stay longer. History to make and all that…"


	41. Chapter 41

**XLI  
The President Speaks**

After a full six hours of sleep, Lois felt like a new woman… _almost_. She certainly felt better than she had in the last six days. She was addressing the world again in one hour and been awake for only twenty minutes, which had been time enough for two cups of _very_ good coffee brewed by her personal chef. Two more cups and she'd feel human again!

By her side, Clark looked quite passable as a secret service agent in his black suit and glasses. Her man certainly had the build and the quiet confidence to pull off the disguise. The New Genesis aliens Barda and Scott Free also shared a similar disguise, but with less conventionality. Barda drew attention _wherever_ she went... as would any seven-foot-tall woman. Lois suppressed a giggle. The president had made the mistake of asking Barda Free how strong she was when they had first met. She watched as the very tall, statuesque woman snapped off a piece of her marble countertop and ground it to powder in her bare hand as though it were crackers for her soup. They had been close friends since.

Unlike his wife, Scott Free was _not_ a physical power house. In fact, he seemed… _average_. A full foot shorter than his wife, Scott Free made an unlikely protector. As best Lois could tell, he was simply an escape artist. But Clark certainly respected him and that was fine with her.

As she munched on a bagel, Lois made changes to her speech. She knew her speaking points well enough, but wanted everyone to see the big picture. They weren't alone in the universe. The time for human conflict was finished, they needed to support their allies in the stars.

The important thing right now though was just being available to the public. The last thing she wanted to do was to hide herself behind locked doors... _however_ happy it would have made Clark. That's why she insisted on having the speech on the south lawn. It was a beautiful Fall day and she wanted everything out in the open. She had never backed down from a fight in her life.

Thirty minutes before her speech, Clark excused himself and left her momentarily. His surveillance flight-path as Big Blue had been registered with security and the Air Force. He wanted to personally scan every square inch with a three mile radius from where Lois would be standing. He would remain in the air until she was ready to walk out of the White House and then quickly land while all eyes were on her.

Lois watched from afar as security scanned every press member allowed onto White House property. The White House itself was providing the video feed to the news agencies. Fighters patrolled the skies above with orders to bring down any unknown craft. Block IV rolling airframe missile batteries were covertly positioned to the sides of the White House lawn with programming to shoot down any unknowns. She was as safe as she could be.

At 9:00 A.M. a tired, but _confident_ President Lane descended the steps of the White House to the stage that had been constructed for this occasion. Fifty hand-picked reporters stared up at her with bated breath as she approached the podium. The vice-president took her hand, leaned over to whisper in her ear - only to inquire how she was holding up. She was doing fine actually... Better than he would be as soon as they were able to connect him to the bomb.

Her generals stood behind her, her secret service agents flanked her and the rest formed a barrier from the crowd below. Barda was directly below her facing the reporters, Scott Free was on her left, and now her man of steel on her right. President Lois Lane took the mike and began:

"The world is not at war.

America… is not at war.

As you all know, Kahndaq suffered an inconceivable tragedy two days ago. The American government is sending water, food, and medical supplies to the people of Kahndaq. If their government allows, we will send all decontamination expertise and equipment we have available to help the people of Kahndaq.

This is not the time for inspections, nor for negotiations. This is a time of healing. This is a time of aid… compassion. It is a time to put away our fear. It is a time for Americans to roll up their sleeves, to help where they can, to continue our good work and progress towards a dream of peace and prosperity.

In this age of miracles, we are not a rock, not an island. We are a world of many. Many cultures, many faiths… but I also believe that each of us is born with human compassion, the capacity for charity and understanding. To believe in freedom, you _must_ also believe in basic human compassion.

America believes in freedom. America will not dictate to Kahndaq, or any other nation. We will talk… we will communicate… we will grow. Let us be more than nations. It is my sincere hope that this tragedy will allow us to begin down the path of peace away from the funeral pyre of hate.

As a planet, we stand divided before our neighbors to the stars… We are not alone. Let us face the vastness of the universe… _together_. We will heal together. We will learn together of the things beyond heaven and earth so the universe may live together.

Our acceptance must begin here. It must begin now. If we close our hearts to our _own kind_, to humanity, how can we open our hearts to others who are _not_ like us? We can remain ignorant of the Universe no longer. There are things out there beyond our comprehension. We must be a planet united, a people united by our compassion, our hopes, and free out eyes from avarice if we are to behold the glory of the stars."

There was applause.

She fielded questions from the press for twenty minutes, with as many details as she could provide. Many people still did not believe in aliens, even if they walked among them. When she was finished, she turned and invited General Mason to the podium to discuss the situation in Kahndaq. She glanced quickly at Luthor as she rejoined Clark. _You believe in aliens, don't you Lex... You just hate them_.

She tuned out General Mason's facts and figures that she had already heard too many times. Her mind drifted to other pressing matters, specifically the lack of any response or intel from Kahndaq. She had expected death threats and declarations of war. There had been nothing. Utter silence from the defiled nation.

Maybe she _should_ send Luthor to Kahndaq as a special envoy…


	42. Chapter 42

**XLII  
The Man Who Killed Gods**

As he stood at the doorway to space, he checked the suit's readings to make sure there was no damage or problems. One single step outside and there would be no gravity, no heat, no air. One little hole or defect and he was either a shooting star or space junk. Some may have called it fear. All readings checked. He took a deep breath and jumped from the CERN satellite to the Earth, a castaway in the inky darkness.

David Cain was only afraid of failure. A lifetime of murder came down to this… a new page in human history. The evolution of those who killed and those who died. He would come at them like the wrath of God and they _would_ know his name. Death from above.

The League had used their affiliations in the war-torn nation of Kahndaq to place two hundred million dollars into Cain's Swiss account via terrorist slush funds. Let them think him a terrorist, he knew what he was. He was an assassin.

Four years ago the League had handed him a green-light application from an unknown employer. When the light turned green, he was to kill the American president. On the morning of the explosion in Kahndaq, when the desert skies became an emerald death, his light had turned also turned green. And one of the greatest minds of history, the man he called master, had given him the plan to kill the president.

And more.

He had taken what he needed from the satellite according to his master's plan and now his flight suit was rocketing downward towards the blue and white planet. Resistance was almost nonexistent until he hit the mesosphere. And then he felt the speed. He was falling fast.

Damned _fast_. The darkness of space fell behind him. As he entered the fiery blue of the sky, his propulsion system went into guidance mode…letting gravity take over. He had just broken the sound barrier in the mesosphere and was on his way to the stratosphere. This was _screaming_ fast.

His stealth flight suit was handling re-entry admirably. He hadn't burned to a crisp yet. Its instrumentation were now making minute adjustments to his free-fall to coordinate his impact into history. The greatest Democratic party-crasher of all time! For a man with three minutes left to live, he was in a much better mood than he ought to be.

He could feel the heat of re-entry as he began to approach terminal velocity. The suit was designed to be flown face-first so that he could see where he was going…_supposedly_. Right now he saw the white landscape of cloud-tops approaching. His radar hadn't detected approaching aircraft yet... So far, so good. The stealth was holding and the League's insurance policy had come through.

Normally, even _with_ their high-level infiltration, this plan wouldn't have stood a chance. Big Blue would have scooped him out of the air long before impact and that… _as they say_…would have been that. But not today. He was planning on Big Blue _trying_ to stop him. The Kryptonite had been hard to obtain, but the League was always good at finding things, _including_ the right people.

They had found him thirty years ago. A soldier. A killer. An assassin. Even if his victim could fly and bend steel girders with his bare hands, Cain would find a way. The assassin's greatest weapon had always been _predictability and planning_. If the victim had habits, a routine, a schedule… he would find a way.

Big Blue was as predictable as he was powerful. He protected the president without question or second thought. The perfect watchdog. That was the _true_ kill today. The man who killed the god of the skies was something he requested on his tombstone. The other promise was that the League protect Cassandra. They owed him that.

Polonium-210 was child's play. Kryptonite poisoning - that was new to the League scientists. Still, they felt confident that one shot from the Kryptonite/titanium auto-injector would take Big Blue down. If not death, then at least disable him for a time. And that was all David Cain needed. Just three seconds to make sure the world knew he was the greatest assassin of all time and then Big Blue close ten seconds later so they would know the man who killed gods.

**Author's Warning:**

_Next Chapter_ - Somebody dies.


	43. Chapter 43

**XLIII  
Gangrene Dream**

Clark gave Lois a wink as she stood beside him, listening to General Mason go over the latest Geiger readings outside of Kahndaq. Her speech was bracing the world for his big reveal, the alien among them. When the time came, she would present him to the world. And then he heard something searing through the clouds two miles above… and it was falling towards them… _fast_.

"Lois, there's trouble above. I'm going to check it out." Before she could say '_wait_' or '_stop_', he was gone… He heard the quick intake of breath from fifty reporters as they witnessed a secret service agent fly straight up into the sky like a bolt into the blue. He suddenly wished that Lois had still been a reporter to cover the headlines this was going to generate instead of the president whose trust he had just broken.

He would deal with it _after_ he knew she was safe. Nothing that size should have been falling straight at them.

Within milliseconds, Clark spotted and caught the man in the strange flight-suit as he fell through the clouds, a mere 30 seconds from impact. Even with the cooling mists of cloud banks, it was obvious the man had fallen a great distance from the re-entry heat of the flight-suit. A sudden stop would have killed the mysterious skydiver, so Clark reduced his momentum gently. He didn't look like a pilot.

As Clark flew the man towards the ground, he noticed eight secret service agents in flight suits lift off and scan the skies for other intruders. The stealth on this man's suit must have been _incredible_ to avoid detection this far. Normally, the anti-aircraft missiles would have filled the sky by the time he hit the two-mile limit. How far had he dropped?

Squirming from the man he held confirmed he was conscious and alive. He was surprised when his captive suddenly fired the upward thrusters on his flight suit. Clark held him with one firm hand and removed the visor with the other.

"You're _not_ going to get away." Clark tightened his grip, crushing alloys to emphasize his point. The face that stared back at him was that of an older, Caucasian man.

"No… I'm not. I've got one _last_ shot to make though, Blue. Can't make it if I'm falling," The old man was smiling.

"You're not going to fall…"

Like a knife in the back, Clark felt the weakness. Much faster than before… and all too late… felt the hypodermic injector stab him between his shoulder blades. His grip slackened and he began to fall, leaving the assassin perched in mid air… his last image before the green poison overwhelmed him.

David Cain watched as Big Blue began his trip back to the earth as he nimbly retrieved 'old faithful' from its flight sheath. Even through the monkey suit, the 50-caliber felt like the embrace of love. Flight stabilizers held him suspended just over a mile above the ground. The president's flying goon squad were only seconds away, so this would have to a quick shot. Bullets were starting to whiz by him from a hundred army sharp shooters below… but he had gravity on his side.

He was aiming for predictability and got it. President Lane broke away from her entourage when she saw her lover fall, stepping towards his falling form as he plummeted. Through his scope, he watched her mouth scream the word 'Clark' as he pulled the prep trigger and then gently squeezed the second trigger before she had taken three steps.

The last shot he would ever take went _through_ the president's shoulder. Twenty years ago he would have put it through the top of her head… but these days a shoulder shot was good enough. The massive round dropped her to the ground like a pile driver, rendering her left arm useless. He was an assassin, not a terrorist. The world must know that. Cain _had_ to make the kill before it all went to Hell.

The era of steel jackets was finished. The nanotech round Cane fired used Karyorrhexis1 to power a nanite-bloom throughout the victim's blood stream. One scratch and death was assured. Nanites went after body's nuclei, tearing them to microbial shreds and then the tiny machines used the shreds built more nanites which went after the next cell and so on. The rate of spread increased exponentially until the victim was nothing more than a gray husk, usually within 2 minutes. David Cain suppressed a chuckle when he recalled the name the lab boys had given these rounds…

'_Gangrene Dream'_.

...And now he must join her.

David Cane felt the first armor-piercing round go through his thigh. It hurt. Another round went through his chest. That hurt more. Two more hit him like a sledgehammer, embedding in his suit. He was being lit up like a Christmas tree. If the rolling airframe missile batteries had not been sabotaged however, he would have been in tiny pieces by now. _Count your blessings, Cain._

The assassin cut the power to his suit and let himself fall once more, still clutching his rifle. He had been allowed to take the last shot and made the kill, the greatest murderer of his era. The gods had fallen.

_Farewell Cassandra. Be well, my darling girl._

1. Karyorrhexis is the destructive fragmentation of the nucleus of a dying cell whereby its chromatin is distributed irregularly throughout the cytoplasm. (From _Wikipedia_)

**Author's Note:**

_REALLY?! LOIS TOO?!YOU COLD BASTARD!DO YOU __HATE__ SUPPORTING CHARACTERS?! _

It has been decreed that my next FanFic _must_ be a romantic comedy... Just to balance the FanFic tragedy quotient of the Universe. Perhaps a rollicking love triangle between a young Lois Lane, Dick Grayson and Jimmy Olson. With special guest appearance by Mr. Myxlplyx! But in the meantime… hold on tight, readers. We're not done yet...


	44. Chapter 44

**XLIV  
"****_...Save Clark_****"**

Trained as a warrior from birth, Barda had been raised a woman of action. When she saw Clark falling from the sky, she bounded across a startled crowd of onlookers to catch him. Barda Free had felt an immediate kinship with Clark as she learned of his past. While Scott and herself were aliens who masqueraded as humans, a young alien Clark had been claimed by the government, studied, and used solely as weapon. She knew that life _all_ too well, having been raised by the maniacal Granny Goodness as a soldier for Darkseid. She would not let him die like this.

An unconscious Clark fell into her arms like a leaden sack. Unconscious… but still alive. She quickly laid him on the grass and immediately retrieved her mother box to analyze the strange green poison that slowly spread across his body. As she placed mother box on his chest to do its work on the Kryptonian, she heard the shot and knew she had failed. She wasn't here to save Clark.

Turning her head to the side, she saw President Lane flatten after being struck by the bullet. Time slowed as she watched Lois fall with Scott only one step behind her, his hand had only been inches away. She felt her stomach heave into her chest when she saw the wound.

Scott Free was a man of peace, but kept danger as a close companion. He knew as soon the bullet hit, this was trouble. His intuition had peaked just before Clark had taken to the skies. They wouldn't let him hold her back as she ran forward. Mother box confirmed what he expected, that she had been hit with nanotech... humans were quickly approaching Apokolips in their level of malice. Six agents snatched Lois from him to carry her to safety, but she only stared at Scott. And whispered…

"…_Save Clark_…"

With Lois being taken away, Scott watched as Barda tended to Clark and then looked up. This wasn't over. The assassin in the space suit was falling and his god-like intuition registered _off-the-chart_ danger. Scott Free made a very difficult decision and reached out with indomitable will to Barda's mother box; '_Boom Tube Now!_' He watched as his wife and the Kryptonian disappeared into the tube of light. Barda would never _willingly_ leave a fight but he wasn't going to lose his wife.

The sense of impending doom became overwhelming. Scott lost the illusion of the black suit, freed his cape and donned his mask - becoming Mister Miracle once more. On aero disks, he took the skies and flew towards the vice president. Luther was in a crowd of fleeing people, half-way to the White House doors, running as fast as he could.

In flight, Mister Miracle plucked a running Lex Luthor from the ground and flew straight up as fast as his aero disks would carry them towards the open sky and concentrated on a boom tube. He was counting on not being shot if he were carrying the Vice President.

As an assassin of his word, David Cane had performed his last contract and fulfilled the deal. Now he performed his last duty as a member of the League of Assassins. He was the big bang of the creation for a new universe.

Milliseconds before impact, David Cain performed his final act. He flipped the switch and said farewell to his daughter.

The blinding white light was almost instantaneous. All matter in a 1.5 mile radius from David Cain became nonexistent.

By day's end, a one-and-a-half mile deep, perfectly smooth crater where once the White House had resided would fill up with the water from the Potomac River to become a lake.

In tune with his panic, Scott's cape automatically wrapped itself around the escape artist and the Vice President, a cocoon to protect them from the impending blast. Scott thanked the Highfather that Barda had escaped with Clark as he watched his own boom tube materialize before him. With the Vice President in hand, they entered one second before David Cane hit the ground. Upon exiting, Scott ducked to the side as the explosion traveled through the still-open boom tube, converting the atmosphere itself into raw energy beside them.

They had escaped.

Scott surveyed the landscape. He had tubed to the Antarctic where he had left Clark. The last coordinates were always the easiest.

Scott reached out to Barda's mother box as he felt Luthor begin to shiver. He locked in the coordinates and calculated she was at the park just outside their home in Connecticut. Making another boom tube jump would almost deplete his mother box of energy, but Luthor wouldn't last long in this environment. His mother box let him know it was _not_ pleased.

The Free's reunited on a sunny, grassy knoll - world's away from the desolation that was only seconds behind them but painfully close to their old home. He was glad that Clark was with Barda, even if he looked… _awful_. She was still trying to stop the spread of infection, straining the limits of her own mother box.

"You _know_ I hate to run from a battle!" his wife scolded him.

"There's nothing left. It's _gone_, Barda. He was carrying a bomb." Scott let go of Luthor to be with his wife.

"_Are you finished?_" inquired Luthor, straightening his tie. Scott turned to glare at him.

"Mr. Luthor, I'm Scott Free. This is my wife, Barda Free. We're not from your world. My wife is as strong as Big Blue and not even _half_ as nice. We're going to use our mother boxes to try and heal him. In the meantime, we're going to ask you some very direct questions. If we don't like your answers, my wife will introduce you to pain thresholds you never knew existed."

**Author's Note:**

Way back in Chapter 8… when Raven sensed _alien_ emotions in Connecticut, she wasn't sensing the emotions of Scott and Barda Free. She was sensing the emotions of their mother boxes… strange and powerful alien technology that forms emotional bonds with their owners.


	45. Chapter 45

**XLV  
The Familiar Dance**

"Barbara, I wanted to thank you for all your help. It's been a very difficult couple of days… And this oatmeal is _amazing_." Bruce Wayne had witnessed a side of Barbara he had never seen before… the _domestic_ side. She had taken over meals and counseled poor Alfred through his time of grief. As he ate his curried, savory oatmeal with apples and caramelized onions, he couldn't help but admire this tenacious woman - who made the most unique breakfasts he had ever had. Barbara Gordon could really cook.

Wayne had spent most of his time with his comatose wife, speaking with his mother-in-law, learning of Azarath and the terror that was Trigon. Had Raven shut herself off from the world to prevent her father from gaining access to it? Arella questioned their relationship and warned him of the consequences. The bright and unique meals had provided a nice change from the sadness, helplessness and anger he felt for his wife.

"You're welcome, Bruce. How is Raven doing?"

"The same, I'm afraid. Still comatose. Alfred managed to put in an IV drip to keep her hydrated, but he says that if she doesn't get better soon, we'll have to bring in professional help."

If there's anything I can do to…" Barbara had to cut short as the image of her father popped in front of her with the word 'incoming' on the wi-screen. She had explained the situation to the Commissioner yesterday about staying with the Waynes so that he wouldn't worry.

"Sorry, I should take this." Bruce smiled at her and continued devouring the curry dish. "Accept… Hi Dad, what's up?"

"Sorry to bother you sweetheart. Were you alone?" It looked like her father was calling from his office.

"Bruce is here with me. I'm inflicting another of my breakfasts on him."

"I see. Well, I suppose this pertains to him as well. I wanted to let you know that Edward Nigma was found dead in his cell last night. The story will break after the president's speech. It was a very elaborate assassination, and luckily it looks like none of mine were involved."

"I'm sorry to hear about Nigma. For all his eccentricities and moral failings, he didn't deserve _that_."

"Yes… The coroner found a very strange tattoo on him as well. Perhaps a riddle? I was wondering if this phrase meant anything to you:

_"The varied star,  
Montanari saw,  
It all begins,  
With the Hebrew R"_

Barbara drummed her fingers on the dining table in deep thought for five seconds. "Montanari's star… that's one of the stars in the Perseus constellation… an eclipsing binary, _Algol_. Supposed to represent Medusa's head. Let me bring up a screen… the Hebrew R is the twentieth letter in the Hebrew alphabet… _Resh_. It says it may be used as an abbreviation for _Rabbi_ or _teacher_."

"…And what do you make of that?" inquired her father.

"Algol Resh... Beats me, Dad." Barbara was taking off her apron.

"I'll have the IT department cross reference, then."

"Have your detectives look at any dealings or meetings Nigma may have had with LexCorp as well."

"You never _did_ trust the government. But you're still my favorite daughter, you know that right?"

"And you're my favorite Dad. The president is going to start her speech in a minute. It's kind of work. Was there anything else?"

"Nope. Thanks, Babs." The call ended and Barbara watched Bruce nearly spew curry sauce across the table.

"_Babs_?" Her boss seemed amused, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Yes, Bruce. And just for that, you're cleaning up. Washing dishes would do you a _world_ of good you know."

"Yes, Babs." He was actually giggling like a schoolboy.

"That's _Miss_ Gordon to you, buster... Would you mind if I watched the president's speech in here while _you_ clean up?" Barbara couldn't help but be inspired by Lois Lane. A tough-as-nails journalist who had gone onto become the first female president of the United States. Her running mate was a heartless jerk, but the conflict-of-interest provisions with LexCorp had benefited Wayne Industries _immensely_.

"I'd like to hear it as well." There was a chill to Bruce's voice.

Barbara noticed that Bruce had taken on a hostile tone when he talked of the president and Vice President. It was evident he held a grudge against them for Richard, who had been swept under the rug like some dirty, American secret. She knew it pained Bruce that Dick had died serving his country, only to have Captain Grayson's service struck from the records. She doubted he would ever _truly_ heal from that.

They watched Lois give her speech about their place in the stars and the need for peace. Of course, President Lane was unable to acknowledge that it was Richard who had been present when the device went off. That would have meant war. Still, her words brought hope for the shared future of humanity.

As the President fielded questions from the gallery, Barbara relented and helped Bruce with the dishes. When General Mason began to talk of the latest information in Kahndaq, both Bruce and Barbara took a seat. He mentioned Geiger readings regarding _unconventional_ radiation that was less dangerous to humans but still warranted a worldwide effort to contain the spread.

When one of the secret service agents by the president suddenly flew off like a rocket into the sky, Barbara's jaw almost hit the floor. She turned to Bruce and heard him utter '_Big Blue_' as they watched him fly into the clouds and bring down someone in an elaborate flight suit only seconds later.

And then they watched the unthinkable.

Big Blue fell from the sky like a discarded god. The man drew a rifle from his suit and then… The president was shot by this man suspended in midair. That's when the crowd went wild. Cameras were jostled and flipped to different angles. Generals and politicians scattered or flattened while agents took up defensive positions and started shooting at the sky.

Voices on the broadcast kept repeating '_The president's been shot! The president's been shot!_' while the sky-assassin was being gunned down, suddenly free falling. Barbara and Clark watched as he fell and then caught sight of another flying person, in yellow, green and red, scooping up someone from the fleeing crowd.

"_Mister Miracle?_…" uttered a surprised Bruce. They watched as he flew straight up holding a bald man who _could_ have been the Vice President. The reporter was exclaiming her utter disbelief of this surreal scene when the screen suddenly went bright white.

And then there was no signal.

Barbara and Bruce both stood in disbelief. For a full minute they stared at the blank screen floating above the kitchen table. Finally, she wrapped her arms around him, because she _needed_ to hold someone right now. It caught Bruce by surprise how _good_ she felt against him. Certainly not right, but strangely welcoming. After muttering expletives and gently thumping her forehead into his chest… Barbara looked up into his deep, sad blue eyes. Chemical reactions lit the air like invisible fireworks between that gaze…

"_I've got work to do…"_ They spoke at the same time and turned away from one another - as though this act of parting were choreographed.  
This thing could never be.

**Author's Note:**

75 FanFic points to **Hawthornbranch** who guessed the "Riddle of Algol" in record time.  
_Algol_ is referred to as the 'demon star' (in the constellation of Perseus). In 1667 the Italian astronomer Geminiano Montanari was the first to record that Algol varied in brightness, thus '_Montanari saw_'.  
The '_Hebrew R'_ refers to _Resh_ which is pronounced as _Raysh_. If it all _starts_ with the Hebrew R, you have "Resh Algol" or pronounced properly:

**Ra's al Ghul**.

Dunh dunh daaaa…


	46. Chapter 46

**XLVI  
A Baptism of Tears**

Raven stood before Azar, first of Azarath on the shores of consciousness. The old woman's hands cupped Raven's cheeks while her gray hair swayed inches away from Raven's chin. She had been a ghost for so long…

"Trigon will never be _defeated_, youngest," continued the priestess. "Can you destroy desire? Is lust finally satiated and forgotten? Do we find final resting places for hate to bury it forever?"

"He _must_ be defeated, Azar. He will destroy _everything_!"

"I was so foolish, so long ago… I cast out our child of malice to be raised by the wolves of despair, of hate. Where was the love in this act of abandonment, Raven? There was _no_ love, only pride. That I could rule the land itself. Do you understand, child?"

"Azarath sought to purify itself. To be free of malice and scorn."

"Purify?... We reduced ourselves to ignorant children. Trigon matured. Do you _understand_, Raven?"

"Trigon became powerful..."

"_There is no Trigon._"

"… There _is_ a Trigon, Azar! All of Azarath bore witness to his cruel devastation…"

"Your soul _still_ has two eyes. You are not half-blinded like the fools who raised you. What did your _soul_ see when it viewed Trigon?"

"…Hate. Overwhelming malice. A thousand points of darkness swirling in chaos…"

"You do see, _Fate of Azarath_. There is no Trigon, only Azarath. Just as you are one-half child-like innocence and one-half darkness, so too are all these fools at the bottom of the sea. There is no Trigon, only Azarath. We _are_ Trigon."

Raven pondered for a moment. "Trigon is eternal darkness only because the light disavowed it."

"Yes, child of Arella. And now the light has become _afraid_ of its own darkness. These waters of the seas of unconsciousness… are oblivion to the souls of Azarath, oblivion they so desperately crave. You must call them back to your shores of consciousness."

"How shall I call them, Azar? My voice will not carry through the abandoned sea."

"If you can see with your soul, can you not also listen? The souls of your kin will listen. Not to words. You must speak to them as only you can."

"…_With_ _Emotion_. That is the guide of the soul." As one of the most powerful empaths in Azarath, Raven was fluent in the realm of emotion. It was a language she understood well, if not allowed to express. She had smothered her emotions for _so_ long… She had buried Bruce's grief, his hatred, his lust deep within her. And to her deepest regret, she had taken his fears.

She had only wanted them to be happy… _Him_ to be happy.

Just as Azarath had cut off the unwanted pieces of their souls, she had surgically removed the dark bits of her husband's psyche. The followers of Azar and the wife of Bruce Wayne had committed the same crimes.

She should have used her gift to understand her husband. Their feelings could have been shared as no two other lovers had _ever_ shared. They could communicate their feelings, grow, understand and love. Instead, she had only stolen his anger, his fear… To protect him, she had treated him as her child. To protect her marriage, she had stolen his burden.

Moisture fell on Azar's old fingers as Raven could no longer hold back her tears. She could never forgive herself.

"My child," spoke Azar soothingly. "We _must_ forgive. We must ask for forgiveness. Without this, we are destroyed. Trigon must forgive us and we must forgive Trigon… to become _whole_. You must ask forgiveness of your husband, but there will be a time when you _must_ forgive him… when no one else will.

My time here grows short. Take my rings, the rings of Azar, the stars and moon. Wear these, and Azarath will be with you always. Call out to your kindred so that they may live in you."

As the ghost of Azar disappeared from view, Raven stared at the two rings that remained in her hands and then stared to the heavens above. The weight of the sky drove her to her knees, alone, abandoned on the shoreline while tears continued to roll down her cheeks. She remembered the man beyond her soul and dried her eyes.

The rings fit well and told a story of love long ago.

"_Our fate is shared, my love. I will return._"


	47. Chapter 47

**XLVII  
An Offer He Couldn't Refuse**

Luthor calmly stared at Scott and Barda Free while straightening the folds in his suit jacket. He seemed unfazed by Scott's threat.

"Mr. Free… You have just saved my life, for which I am quite grateful. But you _must_ return me to Metropolis. We have just witnessed a terrorist attack on an unheard of scale, thousands of key American lives have been lost. Our government is in jeopardy. I am the acting president and there are many things to do. Torturing me would not be in your best interest, I assure you."

"_Why did you do it, Luthor?!_"

"What is it that you think I have done, Mr. Free?... Attempt suicide? If it had not been for you, I would have perished… like the rest of my colleagues. I love my country. I hope you and your wife love it too because we have been the victim of terrorism."

"Just _one_ shot in the kidneys, Scott… to get rid of the political-speak," growled Barda, cracking her knuckles.

"…How is _he_ doing?" asked Luthor as he glanced at a prone Big Blue.

"Not well, thanks to _you_." Barda glared at Luthor, stepping towards him.

"Mrs. Free, again, I had nothing to do with recent events. Are your devices curing him?"

Scott made a telepathic link with his wife's mother box for diagnosis. It had _slowed_ the spread, but it was unable to effectively treat Kryptonite poisoning, especially on someone with Clark's physiology. Neither of their mother boxes had the tools to save a Kryptonian. Big Blue was dying.

"No?" continued Luthor. "Then may I suggest lead-2-Diethylenetriamine pentaacetic acid specific antibodies? LexCorp has found this treatment particularly effective in the treatment of kryptonite poisoning... Oh, and leave him in the sunlight. That seems to be the source of his power."

"Are you saying you have an _antidote_?!"

"Of course, at my lab in Metropolis. Take me there and I will personally give you the 'antidote'. But then we say _Adieu_. I have a nation to run. But remember to tell Big Blue who saved his life. And remind him who he _really_ works for…" Luthor paused and continued.

"…And also that I am sorry for his loss. She truly was a remarkable woman."

Scott knew he was being presented with an offer he couldn't refuse.

"Barda, boom tube Mr. Luthor to his lab. Highfather help us, we need that antidote as fast as possible. Please use the gift of life wisely, Mr. President."

"Oh, I shall Mr. Free… I _shall._"

Scott watched as Barda and Luthor boom tubed away to Metropolis and began to ponder...

Luthor did have a point, it was doubtful he was behind the explosion, at least directly. Luthor was diabolic, but he wasn't likely to place his life in jeopardy to _that_ extent. Was he telling the truth about Clark? Lois? Were there other forces at work trying to sabotage America? Had Kahndaq retaliated?

The sudden crack of thunder in the blue sky snapped Mister Miracle out of his conspiracy pondering. He felt the force-shock from the landing before he saw its cause, standing like a dark god upon the crest of the hilltop…

It was a _man_… Dressed in black with a lightning bolt that actually crackled with electricity running down his chest. Steam radiated from the ground where his feet stood. His whole being radiated the aura of power, confidence, authority. He looked strong… _too_ strong.

"_I have found you, Great Eagle_," spoke Black Adam.

Beyond a doubt, Scott Free was the greatest escape artist in history. Over the years, he had placed himself in numerous death-traps, continuously defying certain death against impossible odds. He did this to challenge his skills. It had almost become routine.

He suddenly knew what fear was once more.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

On the positive side, _lead-2-Diethylenetriamine pentaacetic acid specific antibodies_ really do cure Kryptonite poisoning.

**Next Issue: Mister Miracle vs. Black Adam! Don't Miss It!**


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter Nine: Strange Currencies**

**XLVIII  
Emotion's Muse**

Raven levitated herself from the bleak shoreline, to cast her gaze far across the Sea of Unconsciousness to one thousand souls who lay at the bottom of depths immemorial. Spreading her arms like the bird of memory, she began to emanate emotion.

The Siren's song of old had entranced men to their deaths upon rocky shores. Her song of feeling was the promise of the Siren's song, the hope of Azarath, the love they shared. She would bring the souls of her kindred back _from_ oblivion… even if it drained her of all she held dear. She _was_ Azarath.

All that the rings of Azar were and had been poured through her. Memories from one thousand years, every hope and triumph raged across the calm seas, calling to the souls engulfed in its deep chill. The ocean was vast and uncompromising, unresponsive, uncaring. It dissolved fear, love, hope across a thousand leagues of dark, briny apathy.

Raven let go of memory and opened her heart and soul against the tides of oblivion. The fear burst from her like an explosion, pushing the ocean aside, awaking a dozen souls of Azarath who had known fear. The fear of what she would become.

Winds buffeted her cape as dark clouds swirled in the skies above. But still… it was _not enough_.

She flew farther from shore above the icy depths. When her fears were extinguished, the leaden weight of responsibility poured from her to spill along the ocean's floor. The creeping call of molten duty awoke hundreds more, the image of Trigon set their soul afire as they sought final redemption. The call of duty for past transgressions.

As waves crashed below her, Raven's love became the sun. The love she had withheld for so long. The love for her mother, for Bruce, for herself. It burned the ocean and lit its murky depths. For all her life, she had wanted acceptance, to be loved. This primal desire of human need she cast across darkest floors.

They had flocked to her cause. Slowly, the souls of Azarath walked from the seas to her shores. She had called hundreds to their cause, but there were still hundreds more. She had given all that she had. As her entire body began to shake from the strain, she fell from the sky to the ocean below once again. How easy it would be just to let it all go… to stay here, drowning. This was peace. To become one with the sea.

A darkness stirred in her soul.

Her fear of the demon had been let go. It no longer lived in her soul. Whatever had been buried deep within her now spilled into the ocean.

But this was not the dragon. The dark spirit flew from her on leathery wings to an extinguished sky, a bat of flame and shadow... It was terrible purpose. It was war. It was revenge.

Merciful Gods…it was _Bruce_!

The emotions she had stolen from him. His need for revenge, his hatred, his pain had broken from the gilded cage that had cost her so dearly. It could no longer be denied. The bat-creature was _enormous_, the collection of a year of nightmares and fears from a lifetime of tragedy. A single shrill, ear-piercing cry separated every molecule of her soul as it came for _her_.

Claws that could have crushed her very essence wrapped around her gently and carried her to shore. Six hundred and sixty Azarathian souls embraced her in their light, sharing their emotion, replenishing her empty vessel. Old memories, fears, loves and duty came back to her. But still there were more. She needed them all.

She watched as the giant bat took the skies and dove into the ocean, like some giant dark bird of prey. After a moment, it re-emerged with two souls in its claws and flew back to the shore. Discarding its payload, it perched on the shoreline facing the obstinate waves, leveling its face inches away from the water, staring with eyes of fire at the sea… challenging the cold waters of oblivion to deny him.

Within moments, souls began to wash ashore in the tide. Some walked through the crashing surf as the bat creature only glared. Azarath was restored. It lived within Raven. One thousand souls over the course of one thousand years.

The bat creature scurried on winged-claws back to within inches of Raven's face. Round black eyes, brimmed with the flames of hell, shot an icy chill through her very being. As it screamed a deafening shriek at her, her cloak fluttered in sulfurous winds while her eyes closed in fear.

She understood. She would never imprison her husband's emotional burden again. It was a primal force within him that was undeniable. And God help them all, it was free.

One thousand Azarathian souls watched as the monstrous bat took to the skies above them and shattered the night-time sky, flying higher past the realms of boundary…back to the realm of the living.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Chapter 9's title "_Strange Currencies_" was taken from the R.E.M. song of the same name.


	49. Chapter 49

**XLIX  
The Detective**

Bruce never had the heart to tell Barbara that the WayneNet cloudware that ran the Gotham City Police servers secretly ghosted information into his Oracle account during routine '_maintenance'_. He liked to keep abreast of their investigations and still seem like he wasn't stepping on Jim Gordon's toes… too much.

The world at large was now in full panic. America was desperate to find out who had attacked Washington. He had his best people on it. But for Bruce, there was _another_ avenue he wanted to pursue… Nigma.

Nigma's last riddle had not made any sense, but it gnawed at him that this wasn't just simply revenge. HI-MEMS were also incredibly rare, but had initially been perfected by LexCorp for the U.S. military. That would seem to implicate Luthor, but the technology was available on the black market for the right price. What was most interesting was the application found on Nigma's cloudware.

It seemed to be a simple news-gatherer app, keyed to certain world events. Certain combinations were programmed to turn its light green and it had been specifically designed for Nigma four years ago. The app itself contained no instructions, but Wayne surmised that it was only there to _green-light_ a preordained command.

And he remembered the last words Nigma had spoken to him before Raven had folded his consciousness into his unconsciousness…

"…_the light was green_…"

The app was _almost_ untraceable. Wayne had to run a massive network-wide transaction sweep to cross-reference applications that had pulled the key words and exact phrases associated with Nigma's app. Luckily, he had free access to all U.S. government data warehouses as well. The GCPD wasn't the only department running WayneNet software with planned _maintenance_…

It had taken the Wayne network over an hour, but the resulting list read like a _who's who_ of powerful politicians, business leaders, and ex-cons. By the process of elimination, these individuals seemed to possess similar '_green-light apps_'. The most notable among them was David Cain buried under five aliases, with ties to the shadow cartel of death-dealers, The League of Assassins (…or so he had heard).

Cain traveled under a host of fictional identities but his DNA had been recorded at Gotham Airport only yesterday. More interesting was the two hundred million dollars that had been deposited into Cain's account an hour ago from an account in Kahndaq. Acidic bile rose in Bruce's throat. He wanted to vomit and then to scream. Was this retaliation by Kahndaq?!... He called Lucius Fox and Barbara on side-by-side wi-screens.

"Mr. Wayne," replied Lucius." Welcome back. I'm sorry it couldn't have been under more auspicious circumstances. Seems the whole world's falling apart. My condolences about Richard."

"Yes, thank you Lucius… I believe I've found our assassin. His name was David Cain. He arrived in Gotham yesterday, has over forty political kills attributed to him, and is two hundred million dollars richer. The money came from an account in Kahndaq…"

"_Oh Holy Mother of ©&!$†!_" exclaimed Lucius, placing a hand on his forehead and taking a deep breath. "This will mean war. People will want blood when they hear this."

"That doesn't make sense," chimed in Barbara. "Assassins are paid after a hit, but _suicide_ _bombers_? Hold on… just bringing him up, _now_… This guy was _already_ a multi-millionaire, Bruce. He has one daughter who's a bodyguard in Singapore... This wasn't an assassination… maybe it was a declaration of war. Kahndaq has been amazingly quiet lately."

"Agreed." Bruce thought for a second. "What were the explosives that Cain used, Lucius? I watched the explosion from the satellite feeds. I've never seen an immediate, perfect circle of destruction like that."

"_Anti-matter_, Mr. Wayne. Four ounces. Very close to a 5-megaton bomb in power. No debris, no radiation, a perfectly round crater. We're certain we know _where_ it came from as well. Space agencies lost contact with the scientists aboard the CERN satellite twenty -eight minutes before the explosion. As of last inventory, the CERN satellite was storing four ounces of anti-matter."

"_Waitaminute_! Are you saying Cain flew into space, robbed the CERN satellite and then just jumped?!" asked an incredulous Barbara.

"After killing everyone on board… yes," replied Lucius as though it were common knowledge.

"That suit…" Bruce drummed his fingers on the desk. "That was a high-altitude/space hybrid suit. Looks like one we were working on. Kahndaq doesn't have a space program, but that doesn't mean they didn't have help... Lucius, what do you know of The League of Assassins?"

"Why do you ask, Mr. Wayne?"

"I had heard David Cain may have been a member of The League of Assassins."

"Mr. Wayne. I've been in the defense industry for 40 years. Of course, there's always been _rumors_, but I find it hard to believe that anyone could keep that kind of secret for that long in today's world."

"Stranger things have happened. I've been trying my best to tie Luthor to this, but with no luck. Bumping off the president is his style, but destroying the entire White House? I'm starting to think Luthor just got _played_. Lucius, I'll need a list of politicians left in Washington and who's now in charge."

"The Secretary of Defense O'Neil was hospitalized last night. From current accounts, he would now be the acting president. They're not letting anyone near him."

Let's hold onto what we've found so far. Something still doesn't seem right. Let's keep the investigation ongoing."

"I'll do what I can," replied Barbara, "but most people have gone home to be with their loved ones, Bruce. I'm doing my best just to keep WayneNet running…"

"Of course. Leave the investigation to me then. Hang in there, Barbara."

After the call, his mind was flooded with strange information and emotion. It was all he could do to remain standing.

Thoughts and feelings began to fill Bruce's heart and mind. Memories of a far-off land with idyllic Arabian towers. Hope and love coursed through him next, calling him to a distant shore. Had someone drugged the water? Was he being gassed? It wasn't until the crippling fear of what _she_ might become that he realized what it all meant… Who was behind the broadcast of memories and emotions…

**"…RAVEN!"**


	50. Chapter 50

**L  
Awakenings**

Alfred Pennyworth sat beside a comatose Raven Wayne while the afternoon sun shone through the bedroom's windows. Fall's chill was in Gotham's air once again, and he could feel it in his bones. Yesterday, Alfred had managed to transfer Mrs. Wayne to a proper hospital bed (kept for emergencies at Wayne manor) and successfully administer the saline solution drip intravenously to keep poor Raven hydrated. Even still, he would have to insist that Mrs. Wayne be transferred to a hospital by tomorrow. She needed a more than an old butler with first aid training.

Raven's mother Arella had barely left her daughter's side. Alfred had brought Mrs. Wayne's mother her meals and chatted with her, attempting to fill in the history of the past 20 years. Upon her sudden departure to Azarath, she had missed the Gotham Towers attack by one year, the event that had defined young Master Bruce's life and also, his own. Arella told him of Azarath, of other dimensions and of the terrible Trigon, Raven's father and scourge of the universe.

Alfred much preferred this banter than watching the news. He couldn't do it anymore. After the screen had went white this morning, he had simply turned it off. The world may be going to hell, but Alfred Pennyworth was attending to the mistress of Wayne Manor and her mother. He had even attempted to feed Bruce while he surrounded himself in wi-screens like some illusionary fortress of light. If the world _was_ going to end today, Alfred would die performing his duty to the inhabitants of Wayne Manor.

A sudden, stirring from the bed caught his attention. The old gentlemen stood transfixed as he watched his mistress begin to float and then _levitate_ to an upright position, three whole feet above the bed. Alfred watched as the IV needle he had painstakingly placed in her arm pull free and fall to the floor. She was evidently still unconscious as her head slumped forward onto her chest.

"Mrs. Wayne!…" he began when Arella made motions for him remain still. He stood silent, but ready to catch Mrs. Wayne if she fell. Alfred watched as Raven spread her arms out, almost as wings.

And then he was assailed with memory and emotion.

Memories of a place he had never been… From Arella's recollections, he assumed this must have been Azarath. His soul was then filled with hope and triumph, uplifted. It was sweet nepenthe to the events of the past few days. As Alfred stared across at Arella, he realized that she too was experiencing the same emotions as he. Mrs. Wayne had always been able to make her feelings known and felt, but Alfred had no idea as to the true extent of her power.

It was then that the shadowy hound of crippling fear engulfed the room. The old man fought with everything he had, not to crumple in terror or cling to Raven's side. It was a terrible fear of the unknown, an overwhelming dread of what was to come.

Perhaps it was his own spark of duty or another emanation from Raven, but Alfred then felt the conscientious burden of responsibility. He stood upright again, the fear subsided. He would stand by the woman his charge had taken as wife in proud service. In his mind, he spoke the words '_I am here, Raven_.'

As though his dedication had been returned tenfold, Alfred Pennyworth was awash with the most glorious love. Tears fell from his eyes as his heart swelled in his chest, expanding to his very fingertips. When he felt as if he would burst with unencumbered adoration - Raven _fell_.

Alfred had almost fallen under her weight, but had awkwardly caught her and managed to guide her still unconscious form to at least a tumbling landing on the bed. As he adjusted her arms and legs, he suddenly felt the paralysis overcome him. The emotional journey must have depleted him. He felt numb. With great effort, he managed to stumble back into his chair. You old fool, was this it? Could it be a stroke? He should be worried, but he could not muster the strength of concern as all cares fell from him to the hard, wooden floor and washed away.

He stayed that way for moments, gradually recovering his strength and will - when he witnessed a _bizarre_ sight. A shadowy form, made of fire-and-ash with fiery eyes, seemingly born from Hell emerged from Mrs. Wayne. If he _had_ to describe the thing, he would have called it a _demon_-_bat_. Its smoke-and-shadow wings carried it from the room and down the hall. Had Mrs. Wayne been possessed by a demon?

As the sun broke through the autumn clouds and sunlight once again spilled through the now silent bedroom, Raven Wayne opened her eyes and reached out to take the old man's hand.


	51. Chapter 51

**LI  
The Stranger**

Bruce Wayne had ascended the stairs and was racing towards the master bedroom when the numbness hit him. The strange juxtaposition of memories and emotion that had started downstairs could _only_ have been coming from Raven. She needed him… and he was becoming paralyzed with apathy.

"_This will pass_," spoke a man's voice in front of him.

As he struggled to lift his head upwards, he saw before him a man shrouded in mystery. He wore a black suit, a white turtleneck with a gold, arcane medallion hung around his neck. The fedora wasn't uncommon, but the large blue cloak and white stage gloves that completed the stranger's wardrobe certainly was. Did Alfred have a magician in his family? He was sure he had mentioned his uncle had been a stage actor…

"_Heed my words, Bruce Wayne. You must cast aside your anger and forgive. The fate of the world is precariously balanced, do not tip the scales in the favor of evil. Resist!_"

"…Who… are _you_?" It was all he could do to ask as the feeling drained from him, replaced by emptiness.

"_A lonely man who atones for his sins. Do not follow in my path, Bruce Wayne. Judgment is not ours to dispense. Forgive and ask of forgiveness for yourself._"

And then… _through_ the stranger, he saw the terrible _shape_. It was primeval hatred born on wings of brimstone. Its mouth was blackened obsidian backlit by the fires of Hell. An ungodly shriek filled the hallway as it located its mortal prey…

The stranger vanished as the demon-bat blasted through him, dissolved by a bat-god. Bruce marveled at its intensity, its power. His fear lifted as he managed to raise himself from the floor. It did not stop. This monster of smoke and fire hit him directly in the chest as ash and soot exploded around him. Bruce braced himself, and then…

There was no pain.

It had burned a hole through his shirt, exposing his chest. Otherwise, he was unharmed…

…Until he knew what the demon had _been_. His pain, his trauma, his hatred… all that he had discarded over the past year now bombarded his very essence. His frustration, his lust, his need for revenge _erupted_ in a scream that filled Wayne Manor. He wanted to put his fist through the walls, to make his wife bend to his will, to destroy.

"Master Wayne, are you alright?" Alfred Pennyworth had entered the hallway to find his charge, most of his shirt burnt off, raging against the air.

"No, Alfred. I'm _not_. Is she awake?"

"Yes, sir. She has just opened her eyes."

"Good, I'm going to need some time alone."

"I will prepare a meal and tea for Mrs. Wayne." Alfred did not like the look in his master's eye. It looked like… _madness_.

"You do that."

As Bruce entered the bedroom, he saw Arella covering his horizontal wife in a blanket. He had been blessed not to have an interfering mother-in-law for the first year but now the streak was over. Not that there had been _much_ to interfere with. Before he could begin, it was Raven who spoke first, _softly_.

"Mother. I need to be alone with Bruce right now." Arella wanted to protest, but there was something in Raven's gaze that pushed her away. Begrudgingly, Arella left the room. Bruce closed the door.

"I am sorry, my love. Your burden… it could not be contained." Raven patted the bed beside her, inviting her husband to sit beside her. He remained standing.

"Take _it_ from me, Raven! I can't control it." Bruce was shaking with strain to resist urges he had fought for _far_ too long. Sweat beaded on his brow. It would bring down his sanity.

"I can not. It had forbid me to do so. I can only share your pain through my tears and my heart's sadness. I can not take it from you any longer as an empath. It was never right, my love."

"Never right?.." His rage blossomed and seized the reins of reason. "You know what's not right?! _THIS MARRIAGE!_ You're like a goddamned pusher, you know that? You got me hooked. A whole damned year, controlling me with those little emotional _fixes_ of yours! I was your puppet in a little girl's fairy tale."

The tears swelled from indigo eyes as Raven openly sobbed. "… I am… so…s…sorry my husband…it was never…r…right…"

"Don't you dare call me _that_ again! You have no right anymore. I'm tired of carrying you and your damned burden. For _what_?! God knows, Dick tried to warn me… Tried to talk some sense into me. And do you know where that got him?! There may bits of his atoms floating by in this room right now." Bruce took a deep breath. These were the first tears he had allowed himself to shed for Dick. She had probably taken _those_ too.

"He was my _son_, Raven… And I chose _YOU_ over him! God forgive me, I chose a sniveling witch over my only son…"

"Bruce… I love you. I _always_ have…"

"Little girl, you don't even know what _love_ is… Stay in bed! Cry! I've got a funeral to hold. Since no one else in the entire world will acknowledge him, I'll make damned sure Dick is never forgotten and give him the peace, the _honor_, he deserves… You're not invited."

As he gripped the door to leave the room, he turned back to the pale, dark-haired shape on the bed and grinned, letting his new-found hatred push the knife a little deeper…

"And then after _all_ that, the grieving father can console himself in Barbara Gordon and finally do what he's been _aching_ to do with her for years now… feel free to tune your precious empath dial in, so you can get a sense of what husband-and-wife is _really_ like…"

**SLAM!**

The thing inside her began to crawl its way up into her mind as the anger in her heart opened the way.

_Let us show this man who we really are…_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

This was a tough one to write. The words came easily enough but it was emotionally tough. When you care for the characters, it's hard to put them through that. The title "The Stranger" not only refers to the Phantom Stranger (who makes an appearance), but also the man Bruce Wayne has become after his negative emotions come home to roost.

P.S. Raven doesn't take this lying down.


	52. Chapter 52

**LII  
Mister Miracle vs. Black Adam**

Scott Free examined this dark stranger before him. He had no idea who '_The Great Eagle_' was, but from the man's actions, he assumed it was Clark. Mister Miracle cast aside his initial fear and addressed the man in black.

"We have no quarrel with you. He's been poisoned."

"I am only here for The Great Eagle. Flee now, and you may live… for _today_." The stranger spoke with god-like confidence, tones Scott normally associated with Darkseid. If he could walk-the-walk as well, Scott was in for a battle.

"I can't do that. Who are you?"

"I am Teth Adam, champion of the gods. And you…" Teth Adam summed up Scott carefully from head to toe."…are a _false_ god. What do you claim to be the god of?"

Scott could no longer underestimate this man. He seemed to be able to learn things that he had no right knowing. Only seconds ago, Scott felt certain that this Teth Adam had regarded him as only a commoner in a bizarre outfit. With a cursory glance, he had surmised his new god heritage.

"_Freedom_," answered Scott. The man of lightning-and-black had made it obvious that he wasn't here for Scott. But Scott could not abandon the dying Kryptonian who was his friend and Adam's _true_ target. Thankfully, Barda was not a woman to waste time. Scott only needed to stall Adam for a minute or two.

"Then I have a _challenge_ for you, false god…"

Scott could not believe the _speed_ at which his opponent moved. Mister Miracle himself was inhumanly fast, able to dodge bullets before they left the barrel… but this was the speed of _lightning_. The air itself _snapped_ as Teth Adam appeared instantly in front of the new god – with his mighty hand wrapped around the escape artist's throat. The cold, dark eyes of a serpent looked up at the now-dangling new god… hoisted one full foot off the ground. The Adam smugly spoke his challenge.

"…Free yourself."

As the son of the Highfather, Scott Free was _immensely_ powerful, a being of pure will. He did not wear his birthright openly, but the power was inside him nevertheless. Grabbing Adam's right thumb and fingers, he unconsciously channeled his will into immortal strength to prevent his neck from snapping. He pulled with all his might to break Adam's death-grip.

"_Impressive, false god_. But you have the hand of the true gods themselves around your throat."

Scott felt something in his neck _crack_. As impossible as it was, he could not match strength with Adam. But there was one contest Scott would _not_ lose. Even cast among the overlords of Apokolips as a child, his will could not be broken.

Scott Free projected indomitable spirit as he glared at the black eyes of his oppressor. His thoughts, his will and his determination joined to project one message with perfect clarity…

_LET GO._

The power of Free's god-born resolve railed against the heavens above, forming a rolling shelf cloud above them. The remaining leaves of every tree within two miles suddenly detached from their branches and fell to the earth. In a nearby tennis court, every player suddenly released the grip on their rackets while watching nets detach from their moorings. Even the rain spilled from the sky as the clouds could no longer hold their watery charge.

Beads of rain running down his quivering forearm, Black Adam's own will fought against muscles in his fingers to hold onto his prey. Sheer determination shook his entire being… just to maintain his vice-like grasp of the immortal he held. Lightning flashed from the sky as thunder boomed overhead while the rain masked beads of sweat that ran down his forehead. He stood in an immortal struggle - the will of the universe against the will of gods. So complete was his concentration, his battle, he never heard the war cry screamed behind him…

"_PUT MY HUSBAND DOWN!"_

Scott Free popped loose as Barda's fist slammed into the back of Black Adam's head, sending shock waves hundreds of feet and a _WHOMPF_ sound that could be heard from miles away. Scott sensed the antidote.. laying on the ground ten feet away from Big Blue, still in the medi-cooler. _Of course_…

"_Keep him busy_." It was all Scott Free could do to speak (let alone breathe) but Barda nodded. The priority right now had to be Clark's life. Scott took the opportunity to get past Black Adam and at the medi-cooler.

"That… _hurt_." Teth Adam rubbed the back of his head as he turned to face Barda.

"By the Highfather! How is it you still _stand _devil?!" Barda had delivered a blow that would have leveled a high-rise building to the back of this stranger's head.

"Such beauty _would_ bring most men to their knees, t'is true… But I am _not_ most men. And you _are_ a vision of power and perfection."

"_Hmph_…" Barda grinned. "I _did_ hit you pretty hard. Look, I'm married, that was my husband you were just strangling. It's been a _really_ bad day and kicking you around may be just what the doctor ordered…"

"You are wasted on him. Join me as my queen. We shall rule eternity together."

"…_Scott_?" Barda called back to her husband. "…Did you do something to this guy? He's talking _really_ weird."

"He has done _nothing_ to me, nor could he... It is you that have affected me." With a speed she hadn't seen since Apokolips, he was an inch away from her, his hand behind her head weaving fingers like steel into her long, dark hair and his lips _too_ near. By the gods, he was strong!

"I am the will of the gods," he spoke softly to her. "I am destiny. _Your_ destiny."

Barda had been raised as a warrior of Darkseid, hardened by the fires of Apokolips. She knew an opening when one presented itself. Driving her knee upwards between her paramour's legs - she smiled as he winced. As his hands instinctively drove to the injured parties between his legs, Black Adam released her. Barda grabbed him with leverage and _threw_. Utilizing all her power, she hurled him into the heavens.

…Only to watch him slow his flight, stop, spin and stand mid-air above her. _And he could fly?!_ With fists on his hips, Adam looked down at her and laughed… amused. The pain he had felt a second ago gone.

"You are not so easily tamed, beautiful one. _Fitting_ for a Queen of the Universe, methinks… How strange this time is for me, where women are warriors, and men dress in garish fashion to hide behind their mother's mercy. How _pitiful_ the sex of man has become." Adam intentionally directed the scorn of his last sentence in Scott's direction.

'_Sticks and stones'_ thought Scott as he located the puncture wound where David Cain's deadly dosage had been injected into Clark's back. Luthor's needle didn't have the advantage of a kryptonite tip so Scott had to locate the same, small hole. With delicate hands, he injected Big Blue with the entire hypodermic and said a prayer to the Highfather.

"…Or perhaps he prefers the company of fallen men," continued Teth Adam. "But your beauty has distracted me long enough, my untamed warrior from another world. I must relieve your husband of his prize and continue our courtship at another time. And then you _shall_ be mine!"

It was all Scott could do to avoid being swept away with a lightning strike as Teth Adam snatched a still unconscious Clark from where he lay and disappeared into unseen distances - all in the blink of an eye.

With Adam gone, Scott focused his will into his own neck and forced his cervical vertebrae back into normal alignment. A loud crack and pop filled the air as he gingerly massaged the back of his neck.

Barda looked over at her husband, grinning. "Gosh Scott, you really had him on the ropes there, honey."

"Yes… I _did_." Scott turned frightening for a brief instance. "But thank you, Barda. Your arrival was very timely. I was able to get the antidote into Clark. He has a chance… And for the record, you know you're the queen of my universe, right?"

"Queen of your universe? I _own_ you, hubby. Don't forget it!" She took her husband into her arms and held him for a moment, lifting him off the ground.

"We're going to need help," Scott sighed.

"_I know_," she whispered, betraying the apprehension hidden behind the battle scars of memory. "So will Clark."

With that, they departed.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Black Adam knows a good thing when he sees it.

In my story, Scott Free is able to utilize the Source like his father by will power.


	53. Chapter 53

**LIII  
Gotham By Gordon**

It was a distraught Detective Harvey Bullock who barged into his office thirty minutes after Gordon had ended his call with Barbara. Commissioner Jim Gordon didn't need his police training to know that something was immediately wrong by the way the heavier man carried himself into his office.

"Jim…Did you hear? We've got a _real_ big problem. Someone just blew up the White House…."

"Oh dear God... Are you _sure_, Harvey?"

"Yeah… it's been confirmed. Nothing but a big crater left. People are going nuts."

Jim Gordon took a very large sigh, collected his thoughts, and exhaled. "Detective, I want everyone in this station present in Meeting Room A in…" he glanced at the _only_ wristwatch still being worn by a GCPD officer "…three minutes. Every member we have on the streets, at home, on vacation, hell even retired… I want them on-screen."

As Bullock charged out of Gordon's office barking orders to those outside, Jim fixed his shirt and tie, then took out the pipe that Barbara hated so much, filled it with tobacco (which was impossible to find these days), and lit it. _Smoking bylaws be damned!_

In three minutes, he was standing before two hundred onsite members of the GCPD with thousands more patched in via secure wi-screens. Only five days ago, he had been addressing many of these same people under _much_ different circumstances.

"My fellow officers," Gordon began, "Many of you weren't cops 20 years ago during the Gotham terrorist attacks…worst day of my life. I'm sure you all know by now that the White House has been attacked. For all practical purposes, we must assume that the president, the vice president, and many federal officials are dead.

The country is in a state of shock... As police, we don't have that luxury. We are _law_… we are _order_. Gotham needs every single one of us on duty… right _now_. There are no shifts, there are no days off, there are no vacations, there are no excuses.

Within the hour, every non-operations critical member is to be on the streets in full gear. I want horses, I want beat cops, I want cars, I want helicopters and tanks.

I want on a cop on every corner, two in front of every grocery store. Every weapons store in Gotham is to be shut down immediately. The mayor will invoke a state of emergency. When he does, it will be up to us to keep the peace. Above all, we need to be visible. People need to know we're there.

Everyone is scared… We've got to pull together. Tell them to help one another. Tell them we love this country, this city and her people. We _will_ defend. We _will_ protect.

We're still Gotham.

Let's get to work, officers... And God help us all."

Hours later, a video shot from the downtown streets of Gotham would become viral. A giant-of-a-man standing in front of the smashed-out window of a convenience store…loot spilled around his feet beside a fallen baseball bat…hugging a _much_ smaller female GCPD officer. Towering a full two feet above the lady officer, the huge man is visibly shaking, tears streaming down his square jaw. The small Hispanic woman in uniform holds him while he sobs heart-felt apologies to her.

More citizens of Gotham converge to comfort the man, holding him, holding one another, reassuring themselves that everything will be alright while others retrieve the stolen goods, and carefully return them to the convenience store.

"I just told him what my Commissioner told me," reports Officer Renee Montoya moments later.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

That last scene always makes me tear up a little.

**Next Chapter: Hell Hath No Fury Like A Half-Demon Scorned!**


	54. Chapter 54

**LIV  
Hell Hath No Fury Like A Half-Demon Scorned...**

Arella heard Bruce's yelling from outside the bedroom door while she struggled to control her tears. Her daughter had made the same mistake that she had made herself, years ago. As a naïve teen, Angela Roth had been a lonely outcast, desperate for companionship. What she had found were people who willing to use her, to sacrifice her to Trigon. Raven had allowed Bruce Wayne to sacrifice her heart.

Did this brutish man not realize the burden Raven carried?! Azarath had been destroyed in a matter of minutes. If Raven were to lose emotional control, she would fulfill her destiny and personally bring her father to Earth. None would survive his second coming.

As the bastard slammed the door on Raven, Arella rushed past him and to her daughter. The tears still flowed down her flushed cheeks. There was a strange glow about her…

"Raven, you _must_ calm down dearest. Remember your training, cast these worldly concerns from your mind. Deep breaths… deep breaths."

"No more, mother. I won't be that child any longer."

"You must dear. For the sake of all that is holy, you _must_! If you lose yourself… _he_ will come." The next three words spoken by her daughter haunted her for the rest of her days.

"_Let him come_."

Arella watched as her daughter's indigo eyes changed to eyes of molten gold. She knew those eyes _all_ too well, the eyes of her father. Eyes of anger. Her skin darkened to the red of fire-side embers as the demon in Raven's soul emerged. She was no longer the daughter she bore, she was now the child of Trigon.

"_Azar…please…no_." Arella watched as Raven disappeared into plumes of brimstone. The end of the world was coming and Arella would not have her daughter by her side any longer.

Entering his massive garage, Bruce Wayne ripped off his burnt and tattered shirt and tossed it to the floor. What the hell _was_ that thing? He had decided upon the black Maserati GranCabrio for his joyride but couldn't remember where he left his jacket with his license. It was time for a little fun.

He smelled the black, sulfurous smoke behind him. Without turning around, he coldly called out to her.

"...You can't stop me, Raven."

"My love, I assure you... I _can_." She sounded… _different_.

Wayne spun around to confront his wife... and nearly fell to his knees at the _sight_ of her. Eyes of luminescent amber with Merlot-shaded skin. Yet it was Raven. She stood with a brash confidence, defiant… exotic, demonic, and somehow …_sexy_?

Out of all the shocks he had endured this past week, this was the most unexpected.

"You've had your little speech, Bruce. Now I will have _mine_!" She glided directly in front of him, face-to-face, dark lips only inches away from his own. Wayne felt the heat of her. Felt her anger pulse through him. The slender accusatory finger raised to his face, ready to deflate the bubble of his manly confidence with a single jab-like puncture.

"You're right, I _didn't_ know what love was… until I met you. But don't you _dare_ question if I love you!

And I loved Richard too... I had no idea he had even _died_ until you threw it in my face! It was _you_ that told him to go serve his country. You sent him to war. You don't get to blame me for Richard.

You don't get to blame me at all.

Your life has been hard? You lost your parents? I beg the stars above _every_ night that I'm strong enough to even face my father, to defeat him. Every single person I've ever known wishes I had never had been born! Do you know what that _feels_ like, prince of Gotham? You still had people who loved you. Alfred, Dick... I had _handlers_!

And after all that..._You_ were the one who wanted a nice, happy, little life. Do you think being chaste has been easy on me?! Who the hell takes my emotions?! My lust?! My fears?! I have to live with my own damned feelings tucked neatly away... right beside the ones you didn't want, because you can't handle them! _You_ don't want to be hurt! _You_ don't want to be afraid anymore.

There's _something_ inside of you that scares the hell out of me, Bruce. I'm the daughter of the scourge of the universe and it felt _at home_ in me. But I couldn't hold it. I _shouldn't_ hold it. It _wants_ you! It's _yours_, it's a part of you. I can't take away the suffering, the pain from you any longer… Certainly not as a _witch_... But how about you try me out as a _wife_?! Talk to me for God's sake! Be with me for _who_ am I! Not what I can do for you!

But if you want to run to Barbara Gordon and make babies with her while the world goes to hell, you're right… I _won't_ stop you." Raven placed her forearms across his bare chest while her hands cupped his face… glowing eyes piercing through his own. He felt her heartbeat, her innocence, her passion, anger and… worst of all, _her hurt_. The pain she had buried inside her.

"You only have to _tell me_ _one thing_, Bruce Wayne. Just tell me one thing and I will let you go for eternity. The bonds of Azarath we swore by now reside in me and me alone."

"Raven… I…"

"_Just_ t_ell me that you don't love me, Bruce_."

Eyes of sunlit-gold stared into eyes of deep blue, casting aside the shadows of doubt and deceit. This was _it_ - the moment of their truth. He felt as if the world hinged upon this very moment. This one answer.

"Raven… I just… can't go on… the way we…"

"I am _yours_, Bruce Wayne_._ My body can deny you no longer. I swear this to you.._. but you must… Do you love me?_" Her fingers grasped and wove themselves into his hair while her lean body pressed against his. _Raven_…The very heat of her, her familiar shape, her form, sent a passionate surge to his manhood as only she could.

His lips quivered with anticipation with her lips so close, so _agonizingly_ close… The anger that had filled him surrendered its heat to overwhelming passion. He had never wanted another woman…or _loved_ another woman as he loved and desired her. No anger from Earth, heaven _or_ hell could _ever_ change that.

"_Raven… I love you."_

It was all she needed to hear. She brought his mouth to her hungry lips and wrapped her crimson legs around his muscular torso. Arms that _begged_ to hold him for eternity embraced him, while her hands ached to feel every powerful inch of his body. Long-boiling passions erupted as their mouths tasted of the forbidden fruit, sweetly ripened over a year. Pants and stealth suit flew to the floor while Mr. and Mrs. Wayne satiated a season-ending hunger that had been allowed to consume them far too long. Raven straddled Bruce, her lips never leaving his, gasping as she forced her hips lower…

**Epilogue**

After leaving the bedroom, Alfred was preparing the meal he hoped would cheer up Mrs. Wayne when a distraught Arella slowly descended the stairs and stumbled into the kitchen. She was shaking, visibly upset.

"My goodness, Ms. Roth! Are you quite well?"

"It's the… _end_ of the world. She's _turned_, Alfred… He will come! She will bring Trigon to this world. Where is Bruce?... If he apologized, begged forgiveness from her…possibly… "

"Master Bruce was going to the garage. Have a seat please, Ms. Roth." The gentleman pulled out a chair for her to sit upon. "I will see if he has departed and if he will listen to reason. An apology is _certainly_ in order, I agree." Alfred straightened his shoulders, and marched to the garage. Bruce's behavior to Mrs. Wayne had been _unacceptable_.

A moment later, the old gentleman returned, a pallor surrounding the flush of crimson on his cheeks.

"Did you find him? Will he _apologize_?!" demanded Arella.

"…Ahhh… I'm afraid Mr. Wayne…Bruce will be… _absent_ for some time. But I truly believe that Mrs. Wayne has a… _firm hold_… of the situation at hand… perhaps we should allow them… _time_ to work it out… on their own…Would you like some tea, Ms. Roth? There's a _lovely_ view from the balcony on the south side of the manor."

Alfred poured water into the kettle and smiled.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I've based the demonic appearance of Raven on the "_Ame Comi - Raven Demon Daughter Variant" _ figure. Feel free to google it. _Much_ cuter than demon-raven in the comics.


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter Ten: The Enemy of My Enemy**

**LV  
The United States of Luthor**

Within hours of his strange rescue, Lex Luthor was on his way to the Pentagon in LexForce One. A full squadron of military fighters was dispatched to flank him, with orders to take down anything within ten miles. It had delayed his departure, but it was a necessary precaution - all things considered. He used the time to put all the pieces together.

The first piece of evidence was that the attack had used anti-matter. That quantity of anti-matter was only available from one source; the CERN satellite. Within minutes of his return to Metroplois, he had agents aboard the satellite retrieving the video feed (and bodies), which was then broadcast to his team. Professor Gregor Markewitch proved to be the key to the puzzle. He was known to the CIA… and he was known to Luthor as a former mentor.

Luthor knew where Markewitch's true loyalties lie…

Forty-five years ago near the end of the cold war, a high-ranking KGB insider had been caught and injected with a new, experimental truth serum. In his delirium, the agent went on about a mysterious League of Assassins, a quasi-political organization bent on the destruction of mankind. As his ranting became less coherent, he lost all semblance of sanity and passed away within 24 hours. Its developers had written the serum off as a failure.

Luthor had taken two things away from that historical encounter. One; there _was_ a League of Assassins. Two, at pennies on the dollar, Luthor had purchased the patent and was now manufacturing a refined variation of the Hoffner truth serum privately.

He considered it a breakthrough in psychoactive medication, even if the foreign fools at the UN deemed it _illegal_.

The FBI's database of the League's suspected network of shadow operatives gave him David Cain, verified by the assassin's recent entry into the U.S.A. It was… difficult to track who was in, _and who was not in_, the League. Much like Luthor's staff, its operatives often just _disappeared_.

One fact was certain however. As one of the greatest assassins of his day, Cain had _certainly_ been a member. Two hundred million dollars in Cain's account gave him Kahndaq. Useful… but the League did not work for Kahndaq - quite the opposite in fact.

He could also swear the suit Cain had been wearing onboard the satellite was a Wayne Industries prototype. Again, _useful_… Did Wayne have League affiliations? It was a fact he intended to take full advantage of… _tomorrow_.

He created a League unit within the FBI. They needed information quickly by whatever means necessary. He needed to know more about this mysterious cartel of death-dealers. He was absolutely certain the government was infiltrated. Luthor appointed only his most trusted operatives to this task.

After everyone else had been assigned their tasks, he constructed and committed his speech to memory, all in his head. Lois had her paper, he had a photographic memory.

Upon landing, people seemed genuinely _relieved_ to see him. They had lost so many today… The Speaker of the House, The Senate Leader, The Secretary of State. His next in line was the Secretary of Defense. Secretary O'Neil had been spared, hospitalized with heart pains the evening prior. Luthor would tie up that loose end tonight.

Fighter jets filled the skies above and heavy artillery jostled for position all around the perimeter of the Pentagon. The army had set up impromptu command centers in the surrounding areas and businesses. Luthor was more concerned with who had access to the Pentagon at the moment. Two calls took care of that.

Twenty minutes later, he was adjusting his tie, standing in front of the Pentagon cameras ten levels underground. The word had gone out, news media around the world awaited on baited breath for this moment.

"_You're on, Mr. President, in 5, 4, 3_, …."

"Ladies and Gentlemen... please stand with me. I would like a moment of silence for our fallen leaders and officials who paid the ultimate price in service of this great nation only hours ago."

Luthor waited until all the crew had stood with him. And then he waited sixty seconds while the world waited with him.

"It is important to _remember_ what America stands for, and who has stood for America. As you know, the White House was attacked this morning in the greatest terrorist attack upon our nation's soil in its history. Our enemies would like you to believe this was the work of a solitary terrorist. That one individual, whom we have identified as the international assassin David Cain, was behind this inconceivable tragedy. The work of one madman, acting alone." A large image of the crater that had once been the White House appeared behind him. One of the few known images of David Cain appeared beside it.

"Already, we have established Cain's links to Kahndaq. More importantly, we have recently discovered his links to an international cartel of terrorists who have been working in the shadows of politics. This was _not_ a one-man operation. Nor is it likely that this will be the _only_ attack. As of today, we are at threat level RED until further notice. As such, I am declaring a State of Emergency across the nation.

And, _with hesitation_, I must also declare martial law across the nation… until we can guarantee a reasonable level of safety for our citizens from both threats originating beyond our shores, and within. This is like no threat we have faced before. This international cartel of terrorists, who call themselves _the League of Assassins_, is believed to have numerous operatives in our country. While the group may have origins in the Middle East, it has become obvious that its operatives may hail from anywhere or be anyone. Our mission is to locate these members and bring them to justice with _extreme prejudice_. We will not stop until every last League member is brought to justice."

Luthor let that sink in for a moment.

"And finally, I'm sure many of you have questions as to how I survived the attack this morning... It certainly was a _miracle_. To put it bluntly, I was _kidnapped_. Please don't think me crazy when I say there are _aliens_ among us... Until this morning, America had one of these aliens, codenamed Big Blue, on its payroll. The rumors are true. This was the man who flew into the skies to intercept the League member, David Cain, and fell from the skies after being stopped by Cain. We will be releasing a docket on Big Blue momentarily.

Both myself and our greatest weapon, the super-man Big Blue, were kidnapped by two other aliens who had infiltrated the President Lane's staff using the identities of Scott and Barda Free. Both Big Blue and myself were transported away at the last possible second. They believed that the explosion would cover all possible traces of our abduction.

Fortunately, I escaped. It is clear they planned to use me for LexCorp technology and my bank account. What is unclear is their association with the League. I'm afraid Big Blue is still clinging to life in their clutches. We have no information on their motives concerning Big Blue or whether the League will attempt to convert him to their cause.

As of this moment, I am posting a one-hundred-million dollar reward on the capture of Scott and Barda Free or for information leading to their arrests. Do not approach them yourselves, they are _extremely_ dangerous. We will provide all information we possess on the alien duo including last known location.

To the citizens of America… you _do_ have a government. You will have peace. You will have security. We must obey the law and remain calm, vigilant, and prepared. The White House is gone, but its spirit remains. We will root out this nest of vipers and crush it under our heel and rebuild America.

I will now turn the floor over to General Alvin for the particulars of this morning's attack and how it was carried out. Further details will be provided as they are discovered."

Luthor couldn't help but smile. Today was the beginning of a new era.

_His_ era.


	56. Chapter 56

**LVI  
Under the Sandals of Slaves**

The sun had set on Kahndaq as the new American president finished making his proclamation. At the temple of Hadrha, thousands of armed Kahndaqi gathered by torchlight while the wealthy were revealed by the light of their wi-screens. Like the gods of old, perched atop the stairs of the ancient temple stood their champion, _Teth Adam_. Before him, suspended in the air by the champion's mighty hand was the hero of the Americas, the Great Eagle… utterly _defeated_.

"Men of Kahndaq, I present this offering to you as proof of my great power. Adam will once more rule the lands of the sun." A cheer went up from the masses below. Beside him, a cleric bowed his thinly-bearded head.

"Mighty Adam, so that we may write of your greatness and record your immortal deeds… was it _you_ who destroyed the house of American in a flash of blinding white?"

"It was not… Would you question my _authority_, priest?"

"No man may question your power… But mine eyes witnessed the Angel from the Sky cast down the false American champion you now hold. The Angel brought forth the terrible retribution from God Himself upon the Den of Lies as a _great_ retribution."

With a mere flick of his wrist, Adam cast his hostage to the desert sands over one hundred feet away. A mob of angry Kahndaqi fell upon the discarded hero like jackals.

"Where is the old man with the _quiet_ tongue?" He did not like this cleric's eyes, nor his insolence.

"The old need their rest, my lord. We are but humble servants." The man bowed in a show of subservience.

"Then do not question the chosen of the gods. I will bring this _world_ to its knees!"

"As the chosen one, grant favor to the chosen people. Allow Allah His glory and show these faithful the might of Adam… _defeat_ him." The cleric gestured to the unconscious body being battered below. "Do not steal the heads of the fallen to place on the pikes of your conquest."

Adam drew back his hand to _remove_ the offensive mouth of this insolent man in common brown robe… And then lowered his hand slowly, thoughts of the past carried in the spectacle below. The Champion of Lightning watched as the Great Eagle was repeatedly struck by the butts of soldiers' guns and trampled beneath the worn sandals of peasants. Memories from three thousand years ago stirred in him… how he had _chosen_ this same death - under the sandals of slaves – so that Adam may be reunited with his beautiful Isis after Anubis had taken her from his desperate grasp.

"_ENOUGH!_" the command was heard for miles, his voice like the clap of thunder. Before the throng of his subjects, Adam slowly flew down and retrieved the bruised body of Clark, hoisting it over his shoulder. With care, he flew back to his ancient perch and laid the fallen warrior upon the steps of Hadrha for all to bear witness.

"Hear me well, men of Kahndaq! Tomorrow, when the eye of Ra shines directly upon us, I will grant this champion the death he deserves. Until that time, he will lay at my feet to make peace with his gods and prepare for the afterlife. He will be shown _mercy_ before his departure from this world. After I have destroyed him, I will desire a feast… and _women…_ tall and strong, with long dark hair." Adam smiled at the crowd below as a cheer went up among them. He then cast his gaze at the cleric.

"The Great Eagle's head will be the first to adorn my pikes. But rest assured, _holy_ one that yours will be the _second_." Adam spoke with the certainty of a prophet.

"_As Allah wills_." The cleric spread his upturned hands in humility and bowed before Adam as the holy keffiyeh* hid the smile he wore beneath.

When the Great Eagle groaned an hour later, Adam flicked his hand in the air to dismiss the cleric, allowing his escape. Ra's al Ghul had no intention of being in Kahndaq by the dawn. But he did desire both titans alive… for now.

There was business in America to attend. His dealings here were done and his daughter awaited.

* * *

* A keffiyeh is the scarf-like headdress typically worn by Arab men.


	57. Chapter 57

**LVII  
The Exorcism of Raven Wayne**

Bruce awoke, lying naked on the floor of his garage, painfully aware of the friction burns across his back. Draped across him with hair of ebony and skin of ivory was his beautiful, also naked, wife. Gently, he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. A small moan of contentment sounded from her.

"You're not _red_ anymore," he observed.

"_So I'm not_," she responded a little surprised, peering up from his chest to look at him smiling. "You have exorcised the demon, my love."

"Wasn't this was supposed to bring about the end of the world?..."

"_Yes_… but my only desire was to be with you. To keep the love that is mine."

"I_ am _yours. Truthfully, there is no other woman that I want to be with." Bruce looked into her eyes of indigo once more. "Raven, I need to apologize. I don't know why I said those things. That shadowy thing in the hall hit me and the rest is… like I was _someone else_….until this gorgeous, crimson woman placed her lips next to mine."

"We both have demons inside us, my love. Yours is a fiery demon of vengeance that you have harbored for 20 years, as old and powerful as the one I hold by birthright."

"Then…are we the answer to one another? Have our demons have fallen in love?"

"I do not know… _oh my love!_" Bruce jolted forward when he heard the pain in Raven's voice as her knees raised to her side.

"What is it Raven?! Are you _alright_?" His concern was relieved when she smiled back at him.

"I am fine, dearest. I'm afraid I may have a little difficulty walking. My life as a virgin has ended today and my husband is… large."

"_Sorry_," he spoke with a charming grin. "Now that you mention it, I think my ribs are bruised. And this floor isn't very comfortable at all… I'll help you up. We should get cleaned up."

As a nearly naked Bruce and Raven stood outside the garage entry, he brought up the manor's security on a wi-screen _before_ entering the house. He didn't care if Alfred saw them like this, but he did _not_ want to shock his mother-in-law any further. The coast was clear.

Like guilty children, they scampered upstairs to the master bedroom and directly into their incredibly large shower. As the water from nine jets began to stream down their naked bodies, Raven once more wrapped her arms around him. As he was nine inches taller, she levitated up to his lips, to be eye-to-eye with her love as her feet gently caressed up his calves and thighs until her legs had wrapped around her husband once more.

"I thought you were..." Bruce's question was cut short as her lips locked onto his, tongues dancing in sensory anticipation. After one perfect kiss, she parted from his lips.

"The only pain I could _not_ bear is losing you, my love. Say it for me again, heart-of-my-heart."

"I love you, Raven."

It was all Bruce could do to contain himself as his wife arched backwards in a sensual moan lowering herself upon him. She enveloped him and then they belonged to one another, one being of shared sensory experience coursing through the air surrounding them. He felt her in ways that should not be possible, sharing every pain which gave way to greater pleasures. She felt his need, his begging need for release for which she was only to happy to be.

After a lengthy, steamy, enjoyable shower, Bruce resisted the overwhelming urge to collapse on the bed with Raven - to share the heat and aftermath of emotion under fresh sheets of fine linen. To hide from the world and just share the beauty of their love. For a moment, he gazed at his beautiful wife who also gazed at him… smiling.

"We are content, my love. We are together."

"I love you, Raven Wayne… But there are things I must do. To prepare… for tomorrow."

"…May I join you tomorrow?"

Oh dear _God_, he had forgotten that he had forsaken her from attending Dick's funeral in his anger. How could he have been so callous?!

"I don't think I could make it through without you. Please, stand by me."

"I am always by your side, my love. I will need something appropriate to wear. Richard was never fond of the fashions of Azarath."

"Of course, I'll make the arrangements. Start picking out _a lot_ of clothes, Mrs. Wayne. No more hiding."

"No more hiding. No more running. _Promise_. But I do need to rest, dearest. Your stamina truly is… remarkable."

"You are remarkable… in _all_ ways. Now sleep my beautiful wife. Sleep."

Bruce finished dressing and proceeded downstairs. He was happy to see Alfred standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for him.

"Alfred, glad you're here... Raven's needs an outfit for the funeral tomorrow. We trust your choice in clothing."

"Forgive my impropriety, Master Bruce but I've _already_ placed the order. They should be arriving within the hour, sir." Bruce couldn't help but notice the crimson _flush_ in his old friend's cheeks.

"Alfred… _did you_…?"

"I'm afraid Mrs. Wayne's ability to suddenly appear in any room puts a servant at a… _disadvantage_ in his discretion. Please forgive the intrusion, sir, it was _completely_ unintentional."

"Forgiven, old friend. How is Arella?"

"Still quite concerned about the fate of the world and her daughter. Preparing herself by meditation. Can I assure her that Mrs. Wayne is doing well?"

"Yes Alfred, although perhaps I should tell her..."

"In time, sir. But I believe you should contact Mr. Fox first. I had told him you were unreachable, but he was _very_ insistent on each of his… " Alfred counted on his fingers, "…eight calls. I believe it was concerning the actions of President Luthor."

"_President Luthor_? Luthor is _alive_?!..." Bruce took a deep breath. "Alright Alfred, but please let Raven rest for awhile. Is there anything to eat?"

"Of course, sir. It will be ready shortly."

The billionaire proceeded to his Wayne Industries office and pondered for a moment before placing his call to Lucius. The person that Mister Miracle had saved from the explosion this morning _must_ have been Lex Luthor. But why?! Had Luthor gotten to Mister Miracle? And if Lex Luthor _was_ president, Wayne Industries was in immediate jeopardy.

Bruce drew a rectangle in the air to open a wi-screen. He then placed his thumb in the center for the DNA recognition. He updated himself on the latest events and Luthor's miraculous escape. And then he placed the call to Wayne Industries CEO.

"Call Lucius Fox…Secure. Scramble."

A nervous Lucius Fox appeared before him. "Bruce! I trust you've seen the news? We need to dump all of our data to the Stockholm offices right away. There's a few life sentences for us if Luthor ever got his hands on that!"

"_Kahndaq_, Lucius. I have a secret facility in Kahndaq."

"Mr. Wayne, there's the distinct possibility we will be at war with Kahndaq within hours. I don't believe this is the best option…"

"It will be perfectly safe, Lucius. There will be no war. The data has already been moved. What about the hardware?"

"We have a cargo plane at Gotham Airport on stand-by. We think we can get the latest projects on board quietly. Shall I book that for Kahndaq as well?"

"No, Lucius. Our Ottawa1 offices, please. Move it tonight. You've made sure Wayne Industries is closed for the funeral?"

"I still don't believe that's a good idea in lieu of recent events, Mr. Wayne, but yes, the entire tower will be closed as of 6:00 A.M."

"Thank you, Lucius. Luthor would never buy what he could simply take. And right now, he can take anything. Will I see you at the funeral tomorrow, old friend?"

"Of course, Mr. Wayne... We'll do what we can by morning. Do you think we're over-reacting?"

"When it comes to Lex Luthor, there's no such thing…"

* * *

1. Ottawa is the capital city of Canada. Wayne Industries has a development and storage facility in that city's Industrial Park.


	58. Chapter 58

**LVIII  
A Visit to the Hospital**

Lex Luthor, along with twenty hand-picked, heavily-armed secret service agents, crowded the hallway on the top floor of the Inova Fairfax hospital in Washington, D.C. He had dismissed the previous guards standing outside of Secretary of Defense's private room and had arranged this little rendezvous _very_ quickly and quietly. The true investigation of the League started _now_.

Taking four of his most trusted men, he entered the room, turning to issue a command to the men standing outside the door.

"Anyone who attempts to enter this room in the next 20 minutes… execute them." His men nodded.

The rotund form of Secretary of Defense O'Neil lay on the bed in a blue hospital gown, various monitors beeping around him. He seemed genuinely surprised to see the acting president.

"…_Lex_? This is a _surprise_!"

"Yes, with the events of this morning, I had a few questions, Chuck." Luthor set down the briefcase he was carrying and lifted the man's medical chart from the foot of the bed.

"No need to worry Mr. President. No heart attack… figure it was just _gas_. Go figure, huh? God works in mysterious ways, I guess. I'll be cleared for work tomorrow. I know there's _a lot_ to do. We've got a nation to put back together."

"Oh, I was never worried Mr. Secretary. I just wanted to see which medications they had you on, that's all. Apparently very _few_." From the hospital window, Luthor looked out across the evening skyline of Washington D.C. "Great view you have here, Chuck. Far enough away, but close enough to see the flash. Quite a show this morning."

"I was as shocked as anyone when they told me…"

"I highly doubt that." Luthor opened his briefcase and carefully brought out a syringe filled with an ominous, yellowish liquid. "I wasn't flipping through your chart out of _concern_, Mr. Secretary. Certain medications cause unfortunate interactions with… _this_." Luthor tipped the syringe's needle upwards and gave a tiny squeeze to eliminate any air bubbles. He was cautious not to get the spilled drops close to him.

"Luthor… c'mon. You can't think that I had anything to do with… what _happened_?!" There was panic in the fat man's eyes.

"Strap him down, gentlemen." As his men strapped Secretary O'Neil to his hospital bed, Luthor continued…

"In my hands, I hold the Hoffner truth serum. I'm quite sure you've never heard of it, _very_ few people have. A work of pure genius, created by a neurochemist far ahead of his time. I've eliminated the unnecessary bits… twenty-four hours was _such_ a long time to wait for someone to die. And there will be no insanity, you'll simply fade into a peaceful coma, _after_ you tell me everything you know about the League of Assassins. Our little discussion begins in…" Luthor injected the syringe into the IV port,"…two minutes."

"You sick bastard! I'll never tell you _anything_!" spat the bound man.

"Yes… you will. You see Chuck, I know someone sabotaged the security on our early warning systems this morning. And I know that someone was _you_. You allowed David Cain just to drop right on through. I take attempts on my life _very_ seriously."

"I've only seen the light. I'll be dead within sssekonddsss, Loootthherrr..." Their captive wheezed the last two words through a throat suddenly drawn tight.

"Hold him! He's having a seizure!"

Luthor watched as the Secretary's mouth curled into an eternal smile...Mocking him. The fat man's neck muscles tightened like guide wires and his back began to arch in a death throe. Luthor's truth serum was now coursing through O'Neil's frontal and temporal lobes - making resistance futile - but dead man tell no tales.

And the Secretary of Defense was dead.

"Pack him up, gentlemen. I will need a full autopsy. It appears he died of some neurotoxin _other_ than mine." Luthor packed up his syringe and made for the door.

No one had seen the HI-MEMS bedbug deliver its deadly charge or heard the sixteen secret service agents outside the door suddenly drop like flies…

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Secretary of Defense _Chuck O'Neil_ takes his name from Chuck Dixon and Dennis "Denny" O'Neil_, _two of the better known Batman writers.


	59. Chapter 59

**LIX**  
**American Fugitives**

Scott Free carefully walked along the shadows, back to the woods near his home where his wife was waiting for him. It was too dangerous to take Barda with him as her height made her _very_ distinguishable. She would be safe concealed in the small stand of trees by the park they had peacefully walked so often…_before_ they were fugitives.

He was certain that it had been his godly intuition that had made him open a wi-screen when he did. Luthor's speech was beginning and now he and his wife were now Public Enemy #1. He would have to thank Lex Luthor for that later.

Hours ago, an unconscious Clark had been snatched by an insanely powerful lunatic called Teth Adam. To top it off, their mother boxes were now low on power. Even still, he had been able to use his mother box to camouflage his garish outfit. The reds, yellows and greens were meant for the high profile life of show business, not sneaking around New Haven. He was _sure_ no one had seen him though as he kept to the shadows and niggled the path back to their hiding space.

He had desperately hoped to locate the mother box chargers in their Connecticut residence, but with no success. The risk had produced no reward. The house was stripped bare down to beams and rafters. As he crept back to their hideout, there was no sign of Barda… Had she been _found_?!

Panic-filled seconds later, Scott spotted his wife strolling back from the direction of the strip mall towards their hideout, carrying a shopping bag and wearing…

"Barda, are you wearing _sunglasses_?!"

"Don't _worry_, I bought a pair for you too. I figured it would help us with the whole incognito routine."

"You're seven-feet-tall and built like an Amazon. You _can't_ do incognito, sweetheart."

"I picked you up some clothes too. It's not like _that_ costume is inconspicuous. Quit wasting the power on your mother box. Did you pick up the chargers?"

"…They've gutted the entire place. There's nothing left… Did you say _bought_?!"

"I wasn't going to _steal_ them. Don't worry, no one followed me." To prove a point, she gazed behind her at the wide open, empty fields. "Oh, and I picked up these falafels from Ono's." She held up another bag. "And I bought that dress I've had my eye on at the little boutique on the corner. They actually had it in my size! More or less…"

"They can track us by our purchases, Barda. We've got to get out of here!"

"And go _where_, Scott? How much longer until the boxes self-charge for a boom tube?"

"Probably eight hours. Plenty of time for Luthor's goons to catch up with…"

Scott's unworldly intuition caused him to pause. There was _something_ coming but there was no one within a mile. _Where_?... He took a defensive stance and Barda followed his lead. One second later, the source of his uneasiness manifested as black, sulfurous smoke appearing from a spot directly in front of them.

A mysterious woman wearing a dark, hooded cloak with a leg-bearing dress suddenly appeared standing behind a man that looked _familiar_. Where had he seen him before?... It was Barda who broke the silence.

"Take one step forward, and I'll snap you both in _two_!"

Scott felt a wave of calmness flood over him, pushing aside his apprehension. Judging from Barda's stance, she had felt it as well as she dropped her fists.

"Who are you?" asked Scott.

"Mr. Free, I'm Bruce Wayne. This is my wife, Raven Wayne. We've come as friends." Even though Barda had dropped her guard, Bruce Wayne was smart enough not to take a step forward.

_Of course_! Scott had seen Bruce Wayne's image often as the Gotham industrialist. That's why he had looked so familiar.

The two men smiled at one another, but Scott could feel the intensity beside him as two very different women stared eye-to-eye in silence, neither flinching. His wife was a full foot-and-a-half taller then Raven, but he had learned long ago not to judge a book by its cover, especially one with a cover like _that_.

It was clear that Raven had teleported the pair and that she was the one projecting the feeling of calm. She recognized the inherit violence in Barda… yet still stood her ground.

"Mr. Wayne…You're the Gotham billionaire. Surely one hundred million dollars in reward money doesn't mean _that_ much to you?"

"Not at all. As I said, we've come as friends. You rescued Lex Luthor this morning… _Why?_" He was certainly to the point, wasn't he?

"Another bad decision on my part. I knew Lois was as-good-as dead. That was a nanotech round she was shot with. Then a part of me just knew that something bad was going to happen. Barda saved Clark and in my haste, I decided to rescue the second-in-command. And _now_ look where it's got us…"

"Who's _Clark_?" Wayne was a man of few words.

"Sorry, you may know him as 'Big Blue'. The man who flew up into the sky. He was poisoned with Kryptonite by the assassin and fell back to Earth. Barda caught him. I'm afraid we… lost him though."

"I didn't realize Big Blue had a name. And I'm not sure what Kryptonite is. Is he… dead?"

"_Perhaps_." Mister Miracle sighed. It had been Lois Lane's dying wish that he should save Clark and he had ultimately failed her. "He was taken by the only thing on this planet that may be more powerful than he is. A being who calls himself Teth Adam."

"If ever he dares cross my path again, I will show him what _true_ power is," spat Barda.

"Easy, honey…" Scott paused for a second again, his hand raised for silence. Before anyone else could hear their approach, Scott knew that helicopters were in the sky looking for them with infrared sensors. "Mr. Wayne, if your lovely wife could do us a favor, we really need to get out of here… _fast_."

Raven raised her cloak with her arms and billowing, black smoke engulfed them. Scott had the sensation of traveling through dimensions without the protective encasement of a boom tube, a very dangerous thing to do. And suddenly they were standing in a _very_ impressive mansion. Again, Barda's loud voice broke the silence.

"By the fires of Apokolips! Do you not realize how _dangerous_ that is, girl?! You can lose your eternal soul like that!" Barda stared accusingly at the slender woman in black who had taken them across dimensions to Wayne Manor.

"_I protected you,_" Raven replied calmly as she pulled her hood back to reveal jet-black hair and indigo eyes of a twilight sky. As confrontational as Barda had been, it hadn't affected Mrs. Wayne in the slightest.

"Mrs. Free, I can assure you, my wife has… _powers_. She is able to transport across worlds as easy as you or I move from room-to-room, all quite safely. Welcome to my home. Please, may I offer you anything?"

"A place to hide for eight hours is enough, Mr. Wayne," replied Scott. "I'm afraid we aren't welcome in your world anymore. I'm not sure where we can go from here. Although I would like to save Clark if I could… It was Lois's last wish."

"You aren't welcome in _Luthor's_ world, Scott. This isn't his world yet and we don't all share his views. What does he have against you that he put up a reward?"

"To be honest Mr. Wayne, today was my first contact with him." Scott pondered what motives the acting president could have had against them.

"Lois believed he was responsible for the weapon in Kahndaq," replied Barda. "She thought he was in cahoots with the Kahndaqi to try and kill off Clark with a Kryptonite bomb."

Bruce felt the world below him shift. It had been Luthor all along…  
_He must be added to the list, Bruce._

"When did you learn _that_?" inquired Scott.

"Girl talk." Barda shrugged her shoulders. "I had to do _something_ while you hung out in the Antarctic."

"Are you alright, my husband?" inquired Raven, glancing with concern at Bruce. His emotions had seemed increasingly conflicted all day.

"Yes, just remembering... I'll have Alfred prepare you two a room. I'm afraid we have a funeral in the morning."

"Of course," replied Scott. "We'll be fine without sleep though. But please, one last thing, how did you find us Mr. Wayne?"

"_Bruce_… Please, call me Bruce. It was my wife who found you actually."

"Your technology emits strange emotions. It cares for you." Raven glanced at Barda's mother box and the spot in his costume where Scott had hidden his.

"I _thought_ you were an empath!" declared Scott. "You were trying to calm us down when you first appeared, right?"

"My humble apologies. Your wife is quite… intimidating."

"No worries, I've been trying to calm her down for years." Scott grinned at Barda. "We are thankful, Bruce. You're risking your lives by harboring known fugitives."

"It's my pleasure, Mr. and Mrs. Free. Can you tell me a little more about Clark? Perhaps I could be of assistance with your search."

After twenty minutes, the Free's had filled in what details they could. After wishing them the best of luck, Bruce left them to ascend the stairs. His inner turmoil raged on…

* * *

**Next Chapter:** In the clutches of Ra's al Ghul!


	60. Chapter 60

**LX  
In the Clutches of Ra's al Ghul**

Lex Luthor was not a man who wasted time. As his angry glance left the contorted corpse of the suddenly deceased Secretary of Defense, he chided himself over what an _opportunity_ had been lost… His mind pondered the possibilities of how the League's secrets had been narrowly snatched from his grasp as he watched his agents gather up the body from the hospital bed. Obviously poisoned, but _how_? And when? Had O'Neil administered the poison himself?

As Luthor stepped outside, still planning his next move, he almost tripped over one of his guards laying on the floor. Scanning the hallway, he saw _all_ sixteen of his men - dead or unconscious – similarly sprawled on the floor. When the new president heard his other four agents suddenly _collapse_ behind him, he ran... three steps… and no more.

The acting president awoke hours later. It was still night… he was aboard a boat…. No, a yacht. The was a salient taste to the air… the Atlantic. He rubbed his head and realized that he was not bound, or gagged… Negotiations then?

"You've awoken, Mr. Luthor."

Lex looked in the direction of the mysterious voice and watched an image from the past step out of the shadows. It was a man from another era. Long sideburns seemed to be groomed into tusks sculpted upon his jaw. The stranger's appearance reminded him of the pictures of his ancestors who had fought in the Civil War. The stately man wore a dark green suit, lined with gold trim and a matching cloak, like a vampire from the old horror films. His presence _however_ was commanding. That was no act.

"You're not an American," commented Luthor rising from his chair.

"No, Mr. Luthor. I am not."

"The American government does not negotiate with terrorists."

"My business is with you, Mr. Luthor. I could care less about your American government… as you may have gathered from this morning."

Lex felt his temper begin to rise… and forced himself to remain calm. While it was true that the government did not negotiate with terrorists, Lex Luthor did and _had_. He was in the presence of the League now and he needed _all_ his faculties..

"I don't believe we've been introduced, Mr.…?" Luthor was scanning for exits out of the corners of his eyes.

"My name is Ra's al Ghul." After the man's reply, Lex Luthor was visibly surprised but quickly recovered.

"Ra's al Ghul died forty years ago… You're his _son_, perhaps?"

"Death is not permanent for those who serve, Mr. Luthor. I have _died_ many times over the past ten centuries."

"Serve? And who do you serve, Ra's?"

"I serve the Earth, Mr. Luthor. I serve Life who is the mother of us all. I serve Death, who is our wayward father. There is a balance to things that has long been abandoned by this modern world."

"I assure you Mr. al Ghul, the secret of eternal life is on my agenda, but why am I here? You've kept me alive for _some_ purpose... LexCorp technology? Military secrets?"

"Oh, come Mr. Luthor. We do not have to be enemies. Are your hands too _clean_ to grasp mine in friendship?" Ra's smiled. He knew. He _knew_. "It has been many years since an American president has been a member of the League."

"I will serve no master."

"Serve the _purpose _then, Luthor. Serve the balance of Life. Even you have to admit that humanity has become a blight on the blessed face of its mother."

"That's where we differ, Ra's… What I see in a man is his _potential_. His blood, his sweat, his passions. I see a man's ability…  
The League sees him as _fertilizer_."

"I see him as the child and property of this earth. When you have died as often as I, you gain a… sense of place. Fifty generations, each weaker than the former. The League is strength."

"And if I refuse?"

"_Talia?..."_ Ra's clapped his hands twice as a young woman stepped silently from the shadows. She was breathtaking, _exquisite_. Her white dress, a long-flowing wrap pinned by a broach of simple jade clung to her like sleepless nights. Her dark hair cascaded past perfect shoulders. But more than beautiful, there was an element of tragedy, of danger about her…

"Mr. Luthor, may I present my daughter… Talia. To her I entrust the future of the League. She is to be your companion for awhile. She is as formidable as she is beautiful."

"A tempting offer, Ra's…but I will not be bought."

"If not bought Mr. Luthor…_guided_. What is love _but_ a purchase of the soul. Every man should have the opportunity for one great love in his life… otherwise we are merely pale, scorned reflections of ourselves. Charcoal sketches may be honest, but I've always preferred the breadth of color under the skilled hands of a master. And I assure you my friend, my daughter _is_ a master."

"I will not be guided, Ra's."

"Mr. Luthor… please understand. To me, you are but a _child_. You must learn the principles of power if you are to be a suitable candidate for the League. You _will_ learn how the game is played, how the world will be won and how it will end."

"Enough of _this_! You have no idea what…"

"Oh, but I do, Mr. Luthor. Allow me to demonstrate… Talia?" At her father's bequest, Talia al Ghul placed her hands gently on the president's face, dark almond eyes peering deeply into his black soul as she spoke one simple word…

_"Beloved"_

Luthor folded in upon himself. With one word, he was gone… alone on an endless shore, a sea of darkness crashing in upon its shores. He was elsewhere, the sky above him the reality that had been stolen from him. An observer to his own life.

"Are you ready, my daughter?" questioned Ra's.

"_I am_," replied the man who had once been Lex Luthor - now the living vessel of Talia al Ghul.


	61. Chapter 61

**LXI  
One Thousand Years Ago**

From the yacht's deck, Ra's al Ghul felt the cold wind of the Atlantic Ocean blow across Delaware Bay as he waved farewell to a departing helicopter ascending the star-lit sky. Aboard the helicopter, his daughter was now in place beside Luthor. Possessing Luthor's mind was no easy feat. Talia had required a _great_ deal of concentration – she would be careful in her movements until she was safe once more and would remain by Luthor's side constantly for the next 14 hours. Luthor's spirit was strong, something all too rare in the modern world.

The helicopter itself was an air ambulance, procured from the hospital where Lex Luthor had been abducted only 3 hours ago. The president himself would land it back on the hospital roof – _his daughter was an excellent pilot after all_ - and later offer an explanation that the entire medical wing of former Secretary O'Neil had been attacked by terrorists with poisonous gas…taking the lives of his personal detail of 20 security agents.

Luthor himself had been spared only because he had been inoculated against many types of poisons during his time at LexCorp. Alone, he had commandeered the helicopter and departed, fearing further attacks upon his person. He had then retrieved his previously undisclosed wife from Cape May as she would need constant protection from this point forward. They only needed the ruse to work for a _very_ short time after all.

Lex Luthor seldom left the country and his whereabouts were meticulously reported. The man was brilliant _and_ industrious, never taking vacations or permitting himself excursions. But he did have powerful friends in Qurac, and had visited that country two years ago… long enough for a secret wedding to transpire that no one - _alive_ could deny… thanks to the trail of bodies left by the League.

As his yacht traveled north towards Gotham City, Ra's walked towards the bow and reflected under the starry sky. He had walked to Earth for a thousand years, how strange it was to say good bye. His only regret was for a daughter he had never known, taken from him before her birth by his first love.

_Zara_… beautiful, majestic Zara. His first wife who had shown him the path to his own immortality but had taken the daughter that was meant to be his when she left their world.

One thousand years ago, Ra's al Ghul had been a Sultan… rich, powerful, skilled with horse and sword. He could have had _any_ woman in the nine kingdoms, but it was a beautiful mystic that had stolen his heart… Zara.

To woo her, he had presented her two rings of magic, the moon and the stars. He had won her hands, but she also wanted his. They would belong to each other. She believed in the purity of the soul, that man could return to his immortal form. Once married, her influence spread... Others from his land followed her, that they could turn his desert kingdom of Azarath into Eden.

His viziers secretly ridiculed him, that he would allow men to follow the gentle fantasies of a woman's heart. But it was the _only_ peace he had ever known in his long life, lying beside her on pillows imported from Egypt. She had shown him that the flesh was temporary, simply a construct of the soul's desire. Spirits could travel beyond their earthly bounds to awaken to the wonder of the stars.

With his wealth, she had gathered rare, arcane books of magic. As his kingdom prospered with uncommon knowledge, his Zara grew more powerful in her arts… and desires. It was not only their spirits that could be transported to other realms, but the _land itself…_ and her followers. They could make Eden far from the chains of earth. They would be as angels.

But Ra's al Ghul was not an angel. He was a demon of the sands who would not abandon his beloved earth. He would stay to raise his unborn daughter that Zara had promised him. The child would accept the Earth as her mother.

Zara's new Eden was to have no children. Lust would be cast through the Great Door. When the fateful time came however, she had lied to him as she had taken his lands, his people, his beloved Azarath and her belly large with his unborn child, to a place he could not go… He was left nothing _except_ her discarded name, Zara. The desert winds still echoed his cries from where his beautiful kingdom once lay.

When she fled to the heavens, she had taken a new name…

_Azar._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Well… that's a new take on the origin of Ra's al Ghul!

Let's recap: Azarath is where Raven is from. It was created and founded by the powerful mystic and sorceress Azar. In my story however, Azar was the first wife of Ra's al Ghul when she was still called Zara. The daughter she carried with her, promised to Ra's, was born in Azarath and was also named Azar.

Unlike the comics, Ra's immortality does _not_ come from the Lazarus pit. He was taught mysticism by Zara and grew so powerful in the dark side that his spirit can _push_ another spirit from its host body. His soul is so strong that it can gradually change the physique of its host until it resembles his original physical form.

His _exceptionally_ lovely daughter, Talia al Ghul, is also well versed in this technique so that she can possess the body of another. She has currently pushed Luthor's spirit to the shores of oblivion while her spirit controls his body.

She is powerful enough to inhabit someone else and still perform basic functions with her own body, but unable to maintain this control indefinitely. When she sleeps, the hold is broken and both consciousnesses return to their rightful physical forms.

Ra's is powerful enough to inhabit another's body _permanently_. His consciousness has achieved immortality by possessing hundreds of other bodies over the last ten centuries, a demon who possesses the bodies and identities of those he chooses.


	62. Chapter 62

**LXII  
The Exorcism of Bruce Wayne**

Finally in their bed after conversing with their off-world guests, Raven Wayne felt the inner turmoil that pounded against her love's soul like a tempest. Neither could sleep. Laying upon his chest, her hand felt the beating of his heart and the fear that lie beneath…

"_You are troubled, my love,_" she whispered to his muscled torso, not looking into his eyes.

"Big day tomorrow… I asked Alfred to see how your mother is doing."

"She prepares for the final battle. She believes Trigon will follow her to Earth. As frightened as she is, the fear that courses through your heart is _even_ greater, husband." Bruce drew a deep breath.

"…Have you ever _killed_ anyone, Raven?"

"… no, my love. Never."

"Something… is pushing me to do _something_, tomorrow. The ghosts of my parents... The dead of Gotham…all cry out for _revenge_... To me. They know… somehow they know. I can give them final rest. But it's _so many_, Raven. Eleven million people is so many…"

"Your parents are not ghosts, my love…" There was no doubt in her voice. His parents were _not_ ghosts. She would know. "Bruce, would you allow me travel into your consciousness? We will journey together to confront these fears, united."

"You said you couldn't do that anymore…"

"I can not remove your pain, your fear, your hatred as before. But we may still observe the emotions within you, to find the source of your fear."

"How does it work, Raven?"

Suddenly, Bruce Wayne stood upon an endless shore while a cold sea of blackness caressed the sands. Raven floated beside him, her eyes the luminous gold of her demon form once again but her skin was still as pale as soft, pink alabaster. It was all like a dream.

"It works like _this_, my love. Shall we proceed?" Raven smiled at him.

"Where are we? In a dream?"

"The landscape of your soul on the shores of consciousness," his wife replied.

Although it was dark, Bruce recognized aspects of their bedroom ceiling forming the sky above. Turning to face the island, Bruce saw its center consisted of a… _volcano_. Eerie red light illuminated the land. There was a great fear to this place. Raven reached out her hand to him.

"Let me guide you, husband. Do not let go." Bruce took her outstretched hand.

Together they floated towards the smoldering volcano at the center of his soul. He could feel its heat now, and hear its angry rumbling. He had always considered himself a sane man… now he wondered. He was obviously a man about to erupt, to destroy his soul.

When they flew near the volcano, he saw the bat. It was enormous now, staring up at them with predators eyes while it lie inside the throat of the volcanic, wedged beneath hundreds of rocks. It seemed trapped. Its breath became the sulfuric winds that burned the air around them. Raven began to descend closer to the monstrous creature.

"What are you _doing_?" inquired Bruce. The bat's glare remained on him constantly, laced with accusations. He had betrayed himself. Hell itself fed the monster's need for revenge upon those who would kill, those who would steal. He felt its need, but he also felt its fear and destruction.

"Look _there_, my husband." Raven was pointing to the edge of the volcano's crater. Bruce's eyes pulled away from the dark power of the bat's black orbs and observed what his wife was pointing at. A boulder was rolling _up_ the flank of the volcano until it rolled over into volcano itself. It bounced off the bat monster, agitating it so that it shook the island itself, adding to the pile surrounding the creature.

The figure that had pushed the boulder was now revealed and remained at the edge of the crater to inspect its handiwork. Its ebony hair flowed around its head like a mane of night while its red skin resembled the color of the lava below. He had seen this woman before… It was his _wife_. Raven guided them directly above the crimson woman while his trepidation increased with every inch.

"_You do not belong here!_" It was the wife at his side that called down to her own demon below. The demon's eyes were pits of flame when it looked up at them.

"Did you truly believe you could take the man's fears _without_ sharing your own?" she hissed. "Fair is fair, little Raven." Being so close, Bruce felt the fear of this _thing_, the very pandemonium it encapsulated... Trigon's _true_ daughter.

"All has been returned. And you belong to me." Raven remained firm.

"I belong to your _father_, pathetic girl." The demon flew upwards so the two halves of Raven could stare eye-to-eye. "And what _fun_ you've had in my absence! You've finally been able to spread your whorish legs for your neglected husband. Perhaps you should be begging for me to remain. We can _both_ have a little fun."

"You do not belong here."

"Nor do you... I have work to do, Azar's bitch!" The demonic Raven flew down to the base of the volcano, selecting another large boulder to roll - a demonic Sisyphus - up the side of the mountain, to enrage the fiery beast within.

Raven also descended to the base of the volcano and landed with her husband in tow, to stand face-to-face with Bruce. She wrapped her hands around the back of his head and drew her lips to his, kissing him full on the mouth while the waves of the dark ocean crashed upon his shores and the land shifted below his feet. Tongues danced in fiery passion while their hands caressed each other like greedy sculptors, creating sensual masterpieces. Minutes passed with neither relinquishing the shared ecstasy.

Finally, with a deep breath, she pulled away from his lips and stared into his eyes with the bitter air of regret.

"I wanted to do that one more time… Before I take her back. I have spent my life learning to control _her_. She will drive your demon, your _very_ soul, to the breaking point. Can you go back to the way we were, my love?"

"Can you defeat her?" There was a strange concoction of passion and fear within him. Had that _thing_ lived in his wife all that time?

"I am her, my husband. She is me. I would not cast her from myself so that she may wander the great void of space and destroy worlds."

"Can Trigon be defeated?"

"My love, I carry every soul of Azarath within me. After one thousand years, the souls of light must embrace their darkness once more… They are ready. As I will embrace my dark side, so too will they. In this way, Trigon and Azarath will be given final rest."

"It's like _Pandora_, isn't it?"

"…Pandora, my love?"

"Pandora, in her curiosity, opened the box the gods had given to her for safe keeping. When she opened it, she loosed all the evils the gods had sealed in the box, closing it too late. But one thing remained…"

"What remained in the box but darkness?"

"_Hope_. That's all I need, Raven. Just tell me there is hope."

"There _is_ hope, Bruce Wayne. I do believe there is hope for us, as I always have." Bruce took her hands in his and smiled.

"I will always love you. I will always be with you. And we will always fight for hope."

This was her husband's pledge to her. His declaration. He would remain by her side to fight for their future together. Tears welled up in her eyes. She was truly blessed by his love.

"Stay here, my love. We will return to ourselves in a moment."

Bruce watched as his wife transformed into what could only be described as a dark, oriental dragon. It was a massive creature of shadow and fire, as frightening as the bat living in the volcano but much more dangerous.

He watched as it streaked across the side of the volcano at great speed, opening its fearsome jaws to devour the demon pushing the boulder up the hillside. The dragon issued a deafening roar as its dagger-like teeth snatched the demon from its evil work, swallowing it whole. The bat inside the crater of the volcano squealed its high pitched shriek in harmony with the dragon's second roar of victory.

And then Bruce was back with his wife, laying in their bed. The bat, the demon, and the dragon seemed like a dream. He was a man who fought to retain control of the bat. His wife was a dragon who fought to retain control of a demon.

"Bruce… What did you mean about eleven million people?"

"That's the population of Kahndaq. _God help me_, Raven….I was going to kill every last one of them…"

"But you _didn't_ my love. You will not."

"But I would have…I _would_. It was all set up. Oh dear God, I wanted to…"

"My demon was never yours to bear. Trigon's will is strong..."

"…but I was _so_ close, Raven. For twenty-two years you lived with your demon and never took one single life. I was about to end eleven million lives…"

"Just _ask_, my love."

"Ask?... Ask if you still love me?"

"No my love. I love you always. Ask me what you _need_ to hear."

"How can anyone forgive me for this…_How_?" Tears formed in his eyes.

She held him tighter than she ever had. The shame and guilt that had welled inside her behind walls of ignorance broke free to flow out as tears of joy. They were free. Their lives were their own once more and they would continue to fight.

_"I forgive you, my love."_


	63. Chapter 63

**LXIII  
The Ultimate Weapon**

Bruce Wayne lay on his bed... sleepless, with Raven in his arms, her head resting over his heart. He had been ten hours away from destroying the world. He understood commerce, he understood weapons, and some days he even had a handle on politics but the world of the soul was new to him. The idea of demon possession, ghosts, teleportation and emotional transference had been something best left in the realms of fantasy until this amazing woman had appeared in his life.

But he _knew_ the demon had been inside him. Just as he knew it was now gone from his soul. He could _feel_ it. He understood Raven now. Why it was so important that she keep her emotions in check and why she had tried to keep their relationship without conflict... tranquil.

Ten years ago, he had developed the ultimate weapon. The wi-screens had been a revolution in information technology… allowing any subscriber to access the internet by simply drawing a rectangle with their finger in the air and placing their thumb in the center. Free floating nanites collided to form optics, transistors, receptors. It had made Wayne Industries richer than kings and given them WayneNet.

But it had all been a ruse.

The power of the atmospheric nanites was that they could be assembled into chemical structures, little pieces jamming together to form something larger and produce magic, replicating assemblers. With the right microwave signal, one of these clusters could even amplify to emit a tiny gamma radiation burst. Enough to break surrounding chemical bonds and fabricate a tetrahedral phosphorus center and hydrogen fluoride molecule among neighboring nanites.

From there, it was only one instant chemical reaction to _sarin_1.

People breathed his nanites every day. For the past ten years, there had been various law suits against them, but no costly court cases had proven health effects linked to the Wayne Industry nanites. They seemed harmless by all accounts... as long as Bruce Wayne did not send the syncopated microwave burst from his satellites that would trigger the gamma ray emission and sarin chain reaction.

Two days ago, in the caves below his home, he had defined the country of Kahndaq as the target area. And this was his _gift_ to Richard, to his father, to his mother… Bruce shuddered at the thought of how close he had come to plunging the world into chaos. Of how close he had come to launching the greatest terrorist attack in history... sacrificing Kahndaq. This was no way to honor Richard.

With Luthor as president, he was never more thankful that he had buried this technology in the bunker beneath the mansion. In his temporary insanity, he had transferred the command-ware to Kahndaq for the attack, another mistake to clean up. Bruce would have to start eliminating the production of the "gamma'nites" tomorrow. They were the key to the whole process. A weapon that could trigger mass extinction with one simple command from him…

With power like that in the world, he would need to do _something_ about Luthor. He vowed to tie that bastard to Dick's death and have him locked up like the animal he was. And then he would go after whoever had planned the attack on the White House.

Luthor had mentioned the League of Assassins but neither Wayne nor Lucius Fox could confirm their existence. He had also indicted Scott and Barda Free as alien kidnappers when they had simply saved his life. The League could have been nothing but a glorified witch hunt to allow Luthor to impose martial law and assume absolute power. But it was unlikely that David Cain had been acting alone…

But first he had to get through tomorrow. He would tell the world the truth about Richard. About his sacrifice. About his noble son and the memorial he had made for him.

And then there was Trigon. But that problem would just have to wait…

1. Sarin is an extremely potent nerve agent, classified as a weapon of mass destruction. Its production is outlawed world-wide.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

To simplify the ultimate weapon:_  
_Bruce Wayne programs an area into GPS through his command-ware, whether one square foot or a hundred billion square feet. His satellites broadcast specific microwave messages to that locale. Everything breathing in the defined vicinity dies of sarin poisoning.

The characters I have used in my story are owned by DC. However, the idea of free floating nanites being triggered by satellites as the ultimate weapon of death is mine, so far as I am aware.


	64. Chapter 64

**LXIV  
Underfoot**

Clark awoke to the first rays of the dawn casting their warmth upon his bruised face. He realized that he had never known _pain_ before… but he was sure that this was it. Lying flat on his back upon some sort of ancient, stone step he looked up to see a large, yellow boot resting upon his chest.

The man of steel's eyes followed the boot up the muscular leg to a brawny man of Middle Eastern descent, dressed in black and yellow. The seated stranger had a lightening emblem emblazoned on his chest, and seemed to be using a prone Clark as a footrest. The stranger looked out across the desert, and spoke to Clark in English.

"You have awoken, Great Eagle."

"…I am not _Great Eagle_. Where am I? What have you done with Lois?"

"These people call you '_The Great Eagle_'. You are the Champion of America with the eagle upon his crest. You are now in Kahndaq, on the steps of the great pyramid of Hadrha. The one you call _Lois_, is this the tall warrior woman with long hair the color of desert nights, a heart equally as cold and eyes the color of a clear, blue sky?" Adam held his hand a full foot above his head to describe the height of the woman. "A true-born warrior saddled with a husband as cowardly as he is weak. Is this _Lois_?"

"Lois Lane… is the president of the United States of America. You're talking about Barda."

"_Barda…_" Teth Adam let the sound carry off into the distance before he continued. "…a fitting name for the Queen of the Universe."

"And you are?"

"I am Teth Adam. Champion of the Lightning, favored of the gods.."

"Did you attack the White House?"

"No, Great Eagle, I did not attack America… Nor did I poison you."

To his regret, Clark could still feel the poison coursing through his veins. Yet with every new ray of sunshine, an ounce of his strength returned. He was the weakest he had ever been, but at least he was alive and getting stronger. In the sunlight, Clark's blue solar-suit amplified and stored the sun's energy that healed him.

So this wasn't the man who had attacked America; he had wasted enough time here.

"_Clark_… My name is Clark. Now please kindly remove your foot from my chest. I have business in America."

A wide grin spread across the face of Teth Adam… insolence beamed down upon the Kryptonian - daring _him_ to remove the booted foot that held him in place. So be it. He took a firm hold of Adam's boot with both hands to push it aside and… _it did not move_. With greater effort, he jerked the boot sideways, and… _it did not move_. Finally, with all his remaining might, he hard-pressed upward, straightening his arms… as the stone steps below him cracked, disintegrated and collapsed. The boot did not move… but Clark's strength had buried himself deep into the stone.

He was not as weak as he had initially believed; it was just that Teth Adam was _incredibly _strong. Now with room to escape, Clark let go of the boot and flew, crashing through the remaining stone like artillery through cinder-block and then up, up into the sky. He was free from that damned boot. He had to find Lois!

When Adam flew into him, he thought he may have been cut in half. He had never been hit like _that_ in his life. It was painfully obvious that he was far from healed. The impact had almost caused him to lose consciousness. Carried helplessly through the air, Black Adam brought his prisoner back to the steps of Hadrha and tossed him upon the ancient stone once more.

"…_Please…_" Clark's breath was finally returning. "…I need to see her..."

"Understand this, champion… you may not leave here… Though I sense this weighs heavily upon you. I too was once in love. This time has the _magic eye_, allowing men to see and hear things from afar. Have you the power to operate this magic, Clark?"

"I do... Thank you, Adam." Clark brought up a wi-screen while Adam watched. He tried all four of Lois's numbers, even the White House. There was no response on _any_ line. A feeling of dread came to him. He felt alone under wide open sky. With a deep breath, he brought up the news events in America from the morning, from the attack….

**!**

His screams of anguish shook the pyramids in Egypt six hundred miles away. Birds perished and fell from the sky as the heart of steel _broke_. The crack through his heart extended across his frame...leaving only a broken man, crumpled on stone. The fracture shattered his mind… questions, memories, emotion all fell as shards against a ruined psyche. Nothing worked anymore.

A mighty hand touched his shoulder.

"I too have loved and lost, Brother. Three thousand years ago, my wife Isis was taken from me by the very gods I serve. In my grief, I chose to become mortal and die beneath the sandals of slaves… _just_ to be with her again."

"Was… she.. _there_? On the other side, Adam?" Clark had never cried like this before, unable to control the tears that fell from his eyes. For all his power, he was helpless to do anything… to save her. The only one that mattered was gone.

"Parts of her were, Brother. But the souls of mortals fade quickly with time… memories fade into the great sea of night. Even the love we shared was not forever… it too was washed away in the great sea to wet the clay for newborns. Aspects of her have been reborn and died countless times, one hundred lives, one thousand loves until even Adam is forgotten. But Adam remembers, Adam will _always_ remember..."

"…Then kill me."

"If this is your wish, brother, then it shall be done. When Ra sits in his throne in the sky, to cast His gaze upon His champion, you will die by my hand. But not before then."

"Why do you call me _Brother_?"

"Are there two others like us? I sense the gods in you, Clark. You serve Ra, god of the sun. Even now he grants you his favors, I can _feel_ it. Let him heal your heart, brother. There is no honor in killing a man defeated by love, the gods will do him no favors... Tell me of your Lois."

"… She is… _was_ brilliant. So determined. Passionate… Forceful. Able to see things as they were, you could never fool her. She would always have the truth. That's why she found out about me… that I was… _human_. I had become like them. I wanted to be like them. To be loved by them. By her. To love her."

"You are an orphan, brother. This is why you sought the love of the Queen of America."

"…_How_… did you know that?"

"The gods grant me wisdom and sight. You are a child of heaven fallen to Earth. The mad star that killed your kind seeks to bring an end to the life of the last son of its poisoned soil. Even I can sense the lunacy of the star in your blood now. But the great Ra will heal you, he is a nurturing god if proper reverence is given."

"I don't know much about my home planet. It was called Krypton."

"Your people had lost faith with the gods and only believed in themselves and their ways. Perhaps that is why your lands rebelled against the men who would not honor its gods."

Below them, men with large cameras gathered near the foot of the steps of Hadrha, making signs with their fingers against Clark and spit. Adam called down to them in Arabic.

"Where is the old priest who attended me?" Finally, one of them bowed down to answer him.

"He was found dead this morning in his tent, great Adam. He was an old man."

"And the insolent cleric from the night?" They questioned one another in heated discussion.

"…we know of no cleric, Great Adam." All of them bowed now.

"LEAVE US!"

Clark watched as the men gathered their video equipment and left..._quickly_. Adam turned back to him, placed a firm hand on each of his shoulders, and looked straight into his eyes. Clark could feel the electricity coursing through him.

"For millennium, they've fallen on their knees to worship a god they can't even _see_. What will they do for gods that they _can_ see, Clark? What becomes of gods who walk the Earth? How do they serve us? Shall I tell you?...

…They _kill_ us, brother.

They skulk and kneel and curse our names under their breath. They wait and conspire, hating the gods who defile the world of men. Just as they have poisoned you with the cursed soil of your homeland and mercilessly crushed me beneath their filthy soles the very moment my heart was broken… so they may return to the god of the book.

And now, like slaves of old we are to dance for them. Our immortal blood spilled for their enjoyment, them who know _nothing_ of honor or the true gods of the sky, the river, the sun, the land. If you still wish for death brother, when Ra sits high atop the sky, I will grant you what you desire.

But your Lois will no longer know you. Even the mighty Adam was as you are _now_, a broken man, felled by sorrow, mightiest of all weapons, seeking only the bitter taste of oblivion. In death, true love is like our blood poured into the salty sea. We die, but the ocean cares nothing of our sacrifice. Tears are better suited to it, my brother.

I offer you another choice. I offer you _life_…" Adam extended his hand to Clark.

"…_Join me_."


	65. Chapter 65

**LXV  
"And He Will Make The Face of Heaven So Fine…"**

The life of Scott Free had _never_ been an easy one.

He was the son of one of the most powerful beings in the Universe, the inheritance of New Genesis should have been his. His father, Izaya the Highfather, commanded the Source, the power of New Genesis and all the new gods.

New Genesis was a utopia of beauty, covered in lush green forests, fields and the energy of the Source crackling like lifeblood in the air. The one city on the planet floated _above_ the land so as not to disturb the tranquility of their beautiful world. Scott could also command the energy of the Source to bend to his will. But Earth was painfully far from his home world, the world where he would be a prince.

But the gods of Apokolips had attacked his home world while he was still a babe, engineered by the nebulous Darkseid, attempting to usurp the planet. The war of technology ravaged his once beautiful home world and lasted for centuries. In the end, an uneasy truce was arranged, known as the Pact. Izaya and Darkseid would exchange their first born sons for the promise of peace. If either perished or returned to the land of their birth, the truce was broken.

Izaya himself had imbued Scott with the power of _freedom_. No force in the Universe could bind him. Nothing could conquer his will. Apokolips could never hold him, nor could even Darkseid crush his will. The dark over-lord's own son - Orion - had also come to New Genesis. Strong Orion, with the heart of a warrior, yet able to embrace the ways of New Genesis.

Scott's time amongst the war machines and fires of Apokolips had been _difficult_. Left to the nonexistent mercies of Granny Goodness with her brutal attempts of brainwashing and torture, Scott soon perfected his escape skills and his will was never broken.

But it was in this hell that he had met his wife. Barda had been one of Darkseid's elite soldiers, a female fury, beautiful and strong. The two of them had fallen in love against all odds. Longing for escape, they formed an alliance with the rebel scientist Himon who had fashioned their mother boxes, allowing them to boom tube.

Scott could have taken Barda to New Genesis but that would have meant war. If they had remained in Apokolips, Barda would be murdered by Darkseid himself for her forbidden love of the prince of New Genesis. Instead, they journeyed to Earth, a place where they could fit in and be together. She seemed to like it here, and truth be told, so did he.

"You think too much, Scott Free."

Barda had reappeared, now changed into her new blue dress. She was smiling.

"I suppose I do. Wow, you look… _good_." She looked phenomenal actually.

"Just _good_?..." she pouted. "Perhaps this dress would look better on the floor?" Barda's sulky look was all the encouragement he needed…

**Author's Note:**

The title "_And He Will Make The Face of Heaven So Fine…_" is a quote from Shakespeare's '_Romeo and Juliet_'.

A little more back story. The basis of the Mister Miracle origin is there, but I've added a Romeo and Juliet angle to the Free's relationship. They are forbidden to return to their home worlds (as opposed to leaving), bound to wander the universe together.

In the DC comics, Scott Free is the god of _escape_. I've changed that to _freedom_. A father's gift to his son that he should remain free, even when forced to live in hell.


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter Eleven: The League**

**LXVI  
Green Peppered Omelets**

Bruce Wayne was awoken by his old alarm, who preferred to be called 'Alfred', at 6:00 AM sharp.

"Good _morning_ Mr. and Mrs. Wayne. I trust you slept well? Breakfast shall be on the table in one hour. Your clothes have been laid out."

"… Thank you, Alfred." Bruce glanced at Raven who was still snuggled next to him. He could _feel_ her happiness when she held him, even though she slept. Neither he nor his wife were morning people, but today was the day... Richard's funeral.

Just over ten years ago, Bruce had been ready to exact the terrible revenge he felt his parents and the people of Gotham _deserved_. He had secretly developed the nanotech technology to take the lives of _all_ citizens of Kahndaq; the good, the bad, the young, the old, the guilty and the innocent. All through the particles that powered his wi-screens, the greatest Trojan horse in history.

But he had gone to the circus. One last time...

To watch the Flying Graysons and their feats of high-altitude daring on the aerial hoops, part of the touring Circular Circus. How spectacular they had been… Feats of daring that thrilled the crowd. But one young man's life had come crashing down that night… And _somehow_ it had landed into his own.

Dick's case had led him to direct involvement with the Gotham police, to investigate the murder of the boy's parents, to give Richard Grayson the justice Bruce had been denied. Bruce continued his relationship with the police department… and the boy. As Dick had no other family, Bruce made the decision to become his legal guardian. He had never called himself Dick's father, but the boy felt like he had a son.

People believed that Bruce Wayne had saved Richard. It had been the other way around. Bruce had been hours away from pushing the button and murdering millions of people the night Tim lost his parents. The boy's grief, sorrow and rage matched his own too well. He needed to give the boy closure before he exacted his own revenge.

And somewhere along the journey, Bruce Wayne had learned to love again.

And yesterday, he had learned to love all over again. Just as Richard Grayson had pulled him from the brink ten years ago, so too had his wife only hours ago. He leaned over and kissed the bravest woman he knew on the cheek while she curled herself in blankets.

"Mmmm…"

"Time to get up. Today's the day."

"…_I love you.._. I have decided that I will begin each day by telling you this, Bruce Wayne."

"I love you too, Raven Wayne. Alfred will have breakfast ready in… fifty-nine minutes. I'm going to jump in the shower next door after a quick workout." Bruce knew that after last night, it would be best if they took separate showers again. But perhaps one day…

When Raven reappeared, now clothed, fifty minutes later, Bruce's heart skipped a beat.

Alfred's taste in clothing was _impeccable_. He marveled at his beautiful young wife, how different it was to see her in _normal_ clothes, and yet the old man had still managed to maintain her own unique styling. Her mysterious hood had been replaced with a lacy, black shawl. The Italian black dress still had slits, but ended just above the knees. It was the first time he had ever seen her wear nylons and he wanted to see more.

"You look… _phenomenal_." He stammered.

"Is it appropriate, my love? I have never attended a funeral."

"It is… I think even Dick would approve."

"I would have liked that…very much. You look very handsome as well. Shall we?"

Downstairs, the aroma of breakfast made Bruce smile. Turkey-link sausages with a green pepper and mushroom omelet… Dick's favorite. And there would be tea. Alfred and Dick _both_ loved tea. There had been many Saturday mornings before Richard enlisted that Bruce would walk down the stairs to these exact aromas.

"You're smiling, my love." She could feel him reminiscing.

"Good memories. This was Dick's favorite breakfast."

They greeted Alfred in the dining room. Raven went over to hold him and thank him. And then Bruce did the same.

"Oh.. thank you, sir. I'll wager there will be much more of _that_ before the day is over. I'm afraid our late night guests have departed. They left a very nice note saying that they were going to save _Clark_. Someone you know, sir?"

"Someone I hope to meet." Bruce was surprised when he looked past Alfred to see Arella at the table staring up at him.

"Good morning, Arella. I wanted to apologize for yesterday. Can you forgive me?"

"It is my daughter who should forgive me. All these _years_… Raven, we were always so _worried_ your demon-half would… bring _him_. How could we know? What we did… I'm so sorry… I should have trusted you."

"You were correct mother. My demon-half would side with my father." Raven calmly sat at the table as Bruce held her chair for her.

"_Then_… I don't understand. Were you able to overcome your dark side?" There was a glimmer of hope in Arella's countenance.

"Alas…_no_. My father's dark will had transferred to my husband. I believe Trigon wanted to extract revenge on this planet through my husband. This is why you should forgive him, mother. He was _not_ himself."

"I'm sorry, Bruce. After a lifetime of protecting my daughter… it was _difficult_ to witness what you did... But I _do_ forgive you. We have spent our lives in Azarath training to resist the evil will of Trigon. I would gladly show you some emoting techniques…"

"Thank you, Arella. My wife has already offered."

"Of course," offered Arella. "But why would Trigon use your husband, Raven? Was it to anger you, to bring about your change?" Arella watched her daughter as she sipped her tea and then gently placed the cup back down.

"Bruce has developed technology that can exterminate all humans on the planet."

CRASH!

Everyone looked at Alfred who had just dropped the tray of condiments he had been carrying to the table. The old gentleman stood there… stunned, immobilized. Bruce arose immediately and went over to Alfred…

"Alfred. Look at me... Alfred, it was ten years ago. I couldn't hand it over… it's just too dangerous. It's been in the bunker since then." Alfred slowly looked back at him.

"The day that Master Richard died… you went to the caves. You were going _to_…" He didn't have to finish the sentence.

"…Yes." Bruce steadied himself. "On Kahndaq… it was to be today."

"Bruce… How _could_ you? This is _never_ what your parents wanted. Your father was a doctor... your mother only wanted to protect people. Master Richard would never have wanted _this_. An entire country for one man… no matter how much we loved him, nothing could ever justify _that_."

"No… nothing could." Bruce stood in silence. It was Raven who broke the quiet.

"Alfred, you love Bruce. You have known him all his life. You know there is a demon of vengeance residing in his heart. You have seen a shadow of it… _the bat_. It was through this, and also through myself, that my father was able to manipulate my husband. His will stretches across dimensions."

"… He made this weapon ten years ago."

"Yes, he did. But _you_ saved him, Alfred. You _and_ Richard. Your constant love allowed Bruce to replace the hate that filled his soul."

"Master Bruce, is this true?"

"… It is, Alfred. You have saved me more times than I can count… I never meant it be the _ultimate_ weapon. I didn't even think it was possible. I originally intended it to target small areas, for the caves terrorists use.… And then I realized how powerful it was… And there was you, and Richard. And I _couldn't_…"

Alfred took his _young_ charge into his arms as the tears began to fall from the estate's master, the greatest of the Wayne lineage.

"There, there Master Bruce. Your parents left you _much_ too soon and I haven't always been the role model a man of your abilities requires…"

"You've _always_ been there. That's all I need."

The two men embraced with Alfred feeling much more like a father than he ever had… to fulfill the trust that Thomas and Martha had placed in him.

"Let's all finish breakfast, shall we?" Alfred smiled. "We can discuss decommissioning your weapon _after_ the funeral. I believe Richard would have liked that. That his memory would have saved people, not claimed more lives."

"Yes, of course… Although I suppose I should re-write my eulogy now." Wayne grinned. "Besides, with Luthor as president, I highly doubt we'll have control of Wayne Industries much longer. And I want to go over the escape plan…"


	67. Chapter 67

**LXVII  
Point vs. Point… ****_Live_**** at the Wayne Funeral!**

(**Author's Note**: Readers of Frank Millers "_The Dark Knight Returns_" may recognize the '_Point vs. Point'_ title where an older Lana Lang and a man named Morrie debate the ethical and societal implications of the return of the Batman…  
Seems they exist in my Alternate Universe as well. )

* * *

And we're on in… 5 , 4, 3, …, …

"Good morning everyone, and welcome to a _special_ edition Gotham's foremost editorial watch, Point vs. Point. I'm Lana Lang and this is Morrie Schaeffer. Today, we're hoping to bring you _breaking_ news…"

"Since when is a funeral '_breaking_' news, Lana? Let's face facts… the only reason that we're here is because this is billionaire Bruce Wayne's event and it's a slow news day. I'm sure this will be running 24/7 on Wayne Net News…"

"…As I was saying Morrie, there are rumors that something _big_ may be going down this morning involving President Luthor…."

"What… that he'll be taking control of Wayne Industries for the country's military requirements? Hardly news Lana, just a question of _when_. Luthor won, Wayne loses. Politics _always_ trumps business."

"In the fascist world where _you_ live Morrie, yes it does. Sources close to the action say there's a military build-up like none Gotham has ever witnessed! And the army just keeps arriving. We're going to see just how far president Luthor has gone. We've got cameras in place around Gotham Towers, home to Wayne Industries and Wayne Communications. Let's go live there now to Summer who's on the scene."

"Good morning, Lana and Morrie. This is special correspondent Summer Gleeson LIVE at the site of the Wayne funeral, nestled between stately Gotham towers, scheduled to begin shortly. Right now however, I feel like it's a war zone! There are troops everywhere!

"Whoa… That's some _impressive_ military hardware! Tanks, rocket launchers, army snipers... They've set up a cordon. You're right Lana, we may see some _real_ fireworks here. Surely Wayne wouldn't be stupid enough to resist America in her time of need. You can't say _no_ to Lex Luthor..."

"Let's not jump to conclusions yet, Morrie. What's that? Sorry folks, we have to stop for a brief commercial break, but we'll keep you up to date on these late breaking developments as soon as we're back!"

* * *

After breakfast, the hired car had picked up Bruce, Alfred, Raven and Arella. It had been one of only two instances in his long life where Alfred had been chauffeured. The first time had been the co-funeral of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Even though he protested at first, Alfred was glad that Bruce had insisted that he remain a passenger today. There were too many memories, too many regrets to get through and still be responsible for the safety of his family.

The morning was overcast, but so far, mercifully dry. The funeral itself was to take place in the courtyard between the Wayne Industries tower and the Wayne Communications tower, the heart of Bruce's business empire.

Nearing the grounds, Bruce was alarmed at the amount of traffic congestion on a Saturday morning, slowing the drive downtown. Had there been an accident? Slowly, the car inched forward to be stopped by a… check stop? Manned by the _military_? As they approached the towers, the entire area was being swarmed with armed forces activity. It became painfully apparent that a perimeter was being established around Gotham towers.

And that could only mean one thing…

_Luthor_.

Dozens of army vehicles lined the streets around Wayne Industries. Tanks and rocket launchers filled the roadway while soldiers guarded the vicinity. Getting out of the car, and being ID'ed once more, Bruce scanned the area and finally spotted Lucius talking to someone in the back of a large, black limousine.

"Excuse me everyone, I'm just going to see what's going on. It looks like we may need to put those evacuation plans into play. Raven. I'm counting on you. " Bruce hurried over to Lucius and noticed that Raven was three steps behind him. She wasn't letting him out of her sight. As he strode closer to Lucius, he noticed the worried look of concern on his old friend's face.

"Lucius… Please don't tell me that bastard is going to raid our offices _now_ while the funeral is being held..."

"I won't tell you that, Mr. Wayne. But perhaps you should ask him yourself." Lucius jabbed a finger towards the back seat.

Bruce looked through the open window to see Lex Luthor sitting _far_ too comfortably in the back seat. Beside him was a… _stunning_ woman with almond-brown eyes whose face was concealed by a niqab1. There was something almost… _familiar_ about her. Even so, he had no intentions of letting Luthor disrespect Richard's memory like this.

"You've got a lot of _nerve_ showing up here now, Luthor! Show some _respect_."

"I intend to, Mr. Wayne. That is why I _am_ here, to pay my respects to Captain Richard Grayson. To set the record straight."

"You're trespassing."

"We're _all_ trespassing, Mr. Wayne. The truth will be known."

"The truth _is_ known, Luthor. I know _exactly_ who gave that bomb to the Kahndaqi government and _why_." Wayne made no attempt to hide the anger in his voice. This was low, _even_ for Luthor.

"It's time the world knew as well… I apologize for the extra… _attention_, it seems to follow me wherever I go these days. I will speak _after_ you, Mr. Wayne. My sympathies for your loss." The back window rolled up with Bruce wanting to put his fist through the glass and his fingers around the throat of Lex Luthor. He had no idea what the madman was playing at…

"What's going on, Lucius?"

"No idea, Mr. Wayne. The army began arriving here an hour ago and wouldn't say why. And they just kept on coming. No one's returning my calls. Now the press are streaming in. Are you going to let him speak?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Bruce looked around at the tanks and anti-aircraft weaponry. On the rooftops he saw army sharpshooters. And then amongst the military siege, the members of the press were now angling for positions between soldiers. This was turning into a _fiasco_. As he began walking back to the others, Raven took his hand.

"Who was the woman with Luthor?" His wife asked.

"I don't know, I never asked. I never took him for the Middle Eastern type though."

"There's something _strange_ about her, my love."

"Yes, I felt it too."

"No dearest, you felt something _entirely_ different." She squeezed his hand a little tighter.

"Ahem… But it was strange. Luthor has never trusted anyone, _especially_ foreigners. I've never even seen him with a woman before. And I'm positive it wasn't someone connected to Wayne Industries."

"Be careful of her, my love. Something isn't right here."

"No… it's not."

* * *

"…And welcome back to Point vs. Point! We've just watched Bruce Wayne and party arrive. Wayne, and another _young_ lady, have gone over to a separate limo, spoken to Lucius Fox, CEO of Wayne Industries and are now proceeding to their front row seats."

"Did you see the black suits surrounding that limo, Lana? Could it be the mayor? The governor? My guess is that Wayne just got handed his federal summons!"

"Due process in _this_ day and age, Morrie? Whatever it was, it seems the military is letting the funeral proceed according to plan… for _now_. Guests are arriving and being seated. More media is arriving, but remember folks, you saw it here first!"

"Hey, who's that girl with Wayne?... Summer, can you get closer?"

"You bet, Morrie. Let's get a close up... She looks to be around eighteen. We know Barbara Gordon is in attendance, but it's this girl that seems to be on Wayne's arm. Can we focus in on her hands?… Two rings, one on each ring finger… And those stones are _huge_! We know Wayne's been wearing a ring for a year. Could this be his mysterious _bride_?!"

"Wife, girlfriend, escort, who knows, who cares?... Spend it while you _can_, Wayne… I have the feeling that LexCorp is now entering into Mergers and Acquisitions at bargain basement prices and Wayne's stock is dropping to zero."

"Hold on Morrie and Summer… is that Cardinal Panessa arriving?... Yes, we have confirmation. Wayne's sparing no expenses today, he's brought out the holy leader of Gotham's catholic community. As many of you know, Captain Richard Grayson was Bruce Wayne's ward…What's that? I'm sorry everyone, we have another commercial break, but stick with us for more breaking developments…"

* * *

Alfred, Arella, Bruce and Raven found their seats through the sudden crowd of strangers. Barbara Gordon was a welcome sight amongst the invading army. She had done a wonderful job on her makeup, but could not conceal the puffiness under her sad eyes. Bruce had long suspected that she had harbored a crush on his ward and - truth be told, Richard was fond of her as well. He had been taken from them far too soon.

Glancing around those already in attendance, Bruce was happy to see a number of Air Force officers who had worked with Richard. He was surprised to see that General Johnson was also present, likely for the _post-funeral _event as he had the most inside knowledge of Wayne Industries among army brass. Wayne had little doubt now that both he and Lucius would be indicted as criminals by the president's men and Wayne Industries would be seized by the military. He quietly whispered to his wife.

"Be ready to get us out of here _quickly…_ like we planned. They'll probably arrest Lucius and I when Luthor speaks."

"Shall I take the president as well?" Her husband often forgot _exactly_ what she was capable of.

"Oh yes… I'm going to _personally_ kick his ass… for Richard. "

* * *

1. A niqab is the cloth which covers the face as part of the hijab, usually worn by Muslim women in public.


	68. Chapter 68

**LXVIII  
Remembering Richard**

"… Welcome back to Point vs. Point! Well, it seems like the funeral _is_ going ahead as planned. No arrests, no shots, just a large army presence and drama_. _Behind the stage, there's a large monument under wraps that is rumored to be the Richard Grayson memorial built by Wayne…"

"Wouldn't surprise me one bit, Lana. And frankly, it sickens me a little. I mean, this Grayson kid probably didn't even see one day of conflict in his life. Yet because he's rich, he gets a state funeral and a giant freaking statue. What's right about that? What about the soldiers who actually die in defense of our proud nation? What about the politicians killed in the terrorist attack of only yesterday? Is Wayne having statues built for them as well?"

"He _may_, Morrie. Wayne's always been a supporter of this city and this country. This must have come as a shock to him as well… How's the mood on the ground, Summer?"

"It's a _buzz_, Lana. Looks like the funeral is about to start, but the air is so thick with anticipation, people are nervous… it's just surreal. Nobody knows what to expect next! Cardinal Panessa is now climbing the stairs to the stage where an empty coffin rests. One of the questions here is where is Richard Grayson's body? No one seems to know _how_ he died."

"Great question, Summer… Folks, we're going to switch over to our coverage of the actual funeral now, but we'll jump in if anything else happens…"

* * *

It was Jim Gordon who had pulled in a favor for Bruce to arrange Cardinal Panessa to conduct the ceremony. Gotham's preeminent patriarch ascended the stage to commence the funeral amongst a tide of murmurs. Everyone grew quiet as the old pontiff made hand motions for the crowd to rise. They all stood.

"_We have come here today_  
_to remember before God our brother, Captain Richard Grayson;_  
_to give thanks for his life; _  
_to commend him to God our merciful redeemer and judge; _  
_to commit his body to be buried,_  
_and to comfort one another in our grief_."

The funeral had begun.

After prayers, the eulogies commenced, remembering Richard.

Dick's commanding officer gave a moving speech about Captain Grayson's service. His tremendous ability; the greatest young pilot of his generation, his dedication to his country, his courage, his intelligence and how he had made the ultimate sacrifice (even if there were no details as to _how_ he died) for this great nation. This morning, the army in attendance had been there to protect the president. But now they knew they honored one of their own… A fallen brother.

General Johnson had given the eulogy.

Whatever happened _after_ the funeral, Bruce admired the general for his own brand of courage, for _acknowledging_ Richard. He had been willing to break the code of silence of a mission gone wrong, that Richard had died _in service_ of his country. That he had died a soldier. In doind so, Wayne had no doubt that he had risked his career.

Alfred was up next. The old gentleman recounted his earliest memories of a young man who had emerged from great personal tragedy to become a role model of service. A young man who _could_ have become embittered with revenge, but instead had chose to serve his country. He had risen above the darkness. When the world had taken _everything_ from him, Richard Grayson was still willing to sacrifice himself to protect it. Was there any better definition of hero? Bruce felt these words weren't meant for Richard alone.

At his seat, Bruce took Raven's hand as she rested her head on his shoulder. He watched the tears flow freely from her eyes. As an empath this must have been _incredibly_ difficult for her, surrounded by grief and sadness.

"Are you OK?"

"I am fine, my love. All these emotions, orchestrated by Alfred's words… They tell me about the man Richard was, and how he affected _others_. I have a sense of him now, what he _meant_ to all these people, to you, to Alfred. You should be proud."

"I am, but it's still hard to say good bye."

"I know, my love."

As Alfred finished, there were many wet eyes among the crowd. Alfred had been devoted to the daily events of Richard's young life as Bruce never could be… the traditional parent. Bruce's time with young Richard had been limited by the demands of business, more of a mentor to the young man - an older, more experienced Richard. They were similar in so many ways, brothers-in-arms who had taken different paths to serve the cause of justice.

And then it was Bruce's turn to speak. He drew a deep breath. General Johnson had risked his career... Bruce was risking his life.

Bruce Wayne took the stage alone.

"I wanted to thank you all for coming today. To the members of the press, you can turn your cameras on now." There were muffled laughs among the crowd.

"One week ago, I was giving a very _different_ speech. A speech about how far we've come from twenty years ago. Of how we've rebuilt Gotham… It doesn't seem to matter as much anymore…

Richard and I had much in common… We both lost out parents when we were twelve. For me, that was twenty years ago, for Richard it was twelve… Richard's father will always be John Grayson and his mother will always be Mary Grayson, God rest their souls and reunite them once more.

I could never replace his father. But Richard _felt_ like a son.

I always tried to keep him safe, to protect him. To teach him what I could. And in the end, I realized that he did the _same_ for me. I saved him…He saved me. Somehow all the tragedy in his life was never able to take his smile.

He could have had an _easy_ life... But that wasn't Richard. He would never accept charity, or a glorified title at Wayne Industries. Trust me, I _tried_…" There were a few giggles from the crowd. "No, he believed in responsibility, in work. He believed in respect. He believed in _good_."

Bruce glanced to the rooftops to see where snipers were aiming. His coat and suit were Wayne Industries nanotextile military grade, but that wouldn't save him from a well-placed head shot… The coast was clear - for now.

"One of the accomplishments that I'm most proud of…is that I was able to provide _justice_ for a young Richard. To make things _right_ for a twelve-year-old boy who has lost his parents. We were able to get the bad guy so that a boy could believe in good.

My work with the Gotham City Police Department to help find the man responsible for the deaths of John and Mary Grayson has led to a ten-year partnership I carry on to this day. Without Richard, that relationship would not exist. That is one of the legacies of Captain Richard Grayson. Another was his pioneering work on the Wayne Industries flight suit. Simply put, he was the best pilot in America and showed us how good a flight suit truly _could_ be."

Bruce Wayne gave the signal to the technician to remove the sheet from the thirty-foot bronze and stone statue behind him. It was of Captain Richard Grayson, dressed in a flight suit, holding his helmet in his right arm, smiling at Gotham. There was an audible gasp and murmuring from the crowd.

"To Gotham, I give this as my tribute to one of its greatest sons…Captain Richard Grayson. Its size represents his bravery. The bronze is a replica of the flight suit he wore on his last mission… a mission into _Kahndaq_. This man I was proud to call my son was sent alone to collect the rogue nuclear weapon _provided_ to the Kahndaqi people… by Lex Luthor. He died while trying to disarm it, standing at ground zero when it exploded.

The acting president has requested to speak after me… Explain to _me_ Luthor why _my_ son had to die for your schemes? Why LexCorp provided a nuclear bomb to the enemies of America? Explain to the people of America how you've betrayed them. Pay your respects to a fallen soldier by answering these questions."


	69. Chapter 69

**LXIX  
The Eulogy**

"Welcome back to Point vs. Point… I'm at a loss for words…this is truly _unbelievable_… in the grip of martial law _declared_ by a fascist president that Bruce Wayne has just accused of treason… surrounded by an entire platoon of army infantry. In the middle of _all_ that, Bruce Wayne has just accused Lex Luthor of providing the nuclear weapon to Kahndaq... And he hasn't left the stage, he's just standing there, staring at that black car…"

"I think that's a dead man walking right there, Lana. We're about to see a live assassination…Did he say the president was going to speak?"

"I believe he said the president had _requested_ to speak... That limousine surrounded by security, you don't _suppose_?!... Summer, can you get over there?!"

* * *

With Bruce Wayne's last words still hanging in the silent air, the atmosphere became even heavier with tense anticipation.

For a while, the crowd stared in disbelief, questioning if this was _really_ happening. They waited for the army to rush to the podium and drag Wayne off to some prison deep in the bowels of the earth.

They waited for a sniper's round to be the final answer to his questions.

And then… all eyes moved from Wayne to the long, black limousine parked behind them, the one where Bruce Wayne had fixed his steely gaze. Members of the press were advancing towards the lone car in a sea of security. And then they waited for something to happen.

A moment later, the limo's door was opened.

Their commander-in-chief emerged from the vehicle with a woman, dressed in black flowing robes and a niqab which revealed only her eyes. As if a switch were flicked, the press surrounding the limo went insane, hurling questions at the president while being repelled by secret service. Men in black suits cleared a path for the solemn pair who slowly made their way to Wayne, who glared at Luthor for every step he took.

There was absolute silence in Gotham as the two men locked stares.

The far-off bells of the Gotham Cathedral broke the silence as Luthor stood before Wayne, looking up at him upon he stage.

"If you're finished, Mr. Wayne…" There was no emotion in Luthor.

Wayne moved to the steps, eyes still focused on Luthor, slowly returning to his seat, brushing past the men in black. He watched Luthor – with his sultry lady by his side – slowly ascend to the podium, remove a written speech from his coat pocket, and finally address the crowd.

"I would like to thank Mr. Wayne for allowing me the opportunity to address all of you today. I felt it necessary to express my profound condolences to his family and _all_ those who were close to Captain Richard Grayson in their time of grief. I have promised Mr. Wayne that I would set the record straight.

To begin, I did _indeed_ provide the nuclear weapon to Kahndaq. It was _however_, never my intention to take the lives of any American soldiers, including Captain Grayson… that was an unfortunate accident, brought about by my predecessor in her attempts to save her lover, its _true_ target.

This was a weapon designed _specifically_ to end the life of the alien Big Blue, an agent of the American government. I will not trust the future of this country to an alien, even if he was sleeping with the late president Lane.

However, it is obvious that my zealous oversights in this matter not only cost the life of one of the Air Force's finest officers… but also provoked the terrorist response from Kahndaq upon our government, an attack we all witnessed yesterday morning. An attack which resulted in the loss of _many_ lives, the greatest of our elected officials, crippling our democratic process and necessitating drastic action.

Further investigations have revealed that there is _no_ nefarious League of Assassins… This was simply a ploy used by the Kahndaqi government to shift the focus of our investigations into terrorism. Simply, this was a mercenary attack upon our sovereign soil funded and planned by another nation. By this act alone, Kahndaq has declared war.

And since yesterday, I have been barraged by questions concerning Kahndaq... Are we going to war? Will the U.S. insist on sanctions? Should we retaliate? Should we negotiate? My answer is this…

_There is no Kahndaq._

At this moment, eleven million men, women and children now lie dead within the borders of Kahndaq. In moments, worldwide news agencies will begin to show countless bodies littering the streets and countryside of Kahndaq… No one was spared.

Today we begin a _new_ era. On this day, as of this moment, all wars end. This is the end of war, of international conflict. This I dedicate to the legacy of Captain Richard Grayson.

The last weapon, the ultimate weapon, the engine of destruction, has been invented by America. For that alone, I give thanks to Bruce Wayne. There is no defense. There is no retribution. There is only America and those who _serve_ America. Embrace the beginning of this new era, the era of world peace governed by a _righteous_ hand, our hand.

Those who do not bow to America will perish. Their nation will die. Any attacks upon America will be met with the utter and final destruction of that country. Let Kahndaq be the shining example to aid other nations in their time of decision. Reflect well upon the lesson.

There will be no treaties. There will be no negotiations. There will be only terms of surrender. Nations of the world must sign and abide by these terms… or they will die by our weapon.

Governments of the world will be presented with their documents of surrender by day's end. This will become their new charter in our new world. I will expect an answer within 24 hours from that time.

Stand tall America.

We have won."


	70. Chapter 70

**LXX  
We Interrupt This Program For A Special Announcement**

"…Since Lana is just sitting there blowing spit bubbles on live television, allow _me_ to jump in. Welcome back to Point vs. Point…  
OK, let's get right to it… _Best_… _Eulogy_… _Ever_!"

"…Morrie, you're a long-time Lex Luthor supporter, but even you can't justify him killing eleven million people? Are you ready to admit the man's a psychopath?!"

"Oh c'mon Lana, it's all _metaphor_. He's just saying he _could_ do it. It's like John Lennon's '_Imagine_', except from a closet right-wing politician. You _should_ be able to relate to that. America's been going into hysterics since the whole White House thing. Luthor just reminded us that we should get our collective heads out of our asses."

"I hope to God it's metaphor. Do you think he has an _ultimate weapon_?"

"Lana, _seriously_? This is Lex Luthor we're talking about… Of _course_ he has an ultimate weapon!"

"There's no doubt he's incredibly dangerous. And then the confession about the nuke in Kahndaq…"

"That's why he was _at_ the funeral… to _apologize_. He never meant to take that kid's life. Yeah he provided the nuke, but he _justified_ it... Look, just consider _this_… the former president was bumping uglies with an extra-terrestrial! A _freaking_ real-life alien! Am I the only one who feels this was a threat to national security? I mean, who knows where her mind was at? Was this alien stud just buttering her up for the _invasion_?... Luthor _had_ to get this guy out of the picture the only way he knew how."

"Sleeping with an alien does raise some _interesting_ questions... But I think Luthor has trumped any questions of our late president's sanity with _that_ speech. His sudden demand for the rest of the world to surrender. We could be going to war…"

"Lana, Lana, Lana… Lex Luthor _is_ manifest destiny. The rest of the world _knows_ that. Lois Lane opened her arms to the world and they spat in her face. _Nobody_ puts Lex Luthor in the corner. Frankly, I think we're overdue…"

"…Sorry Morrie… We're getting live feed now from the satellites above Kahndaq to verify if… OH DEAR GOD! IT"S TRUE! _IT'S ALL TRUE_…There are bodies _everywhere_…"

"Wow… that guy is _awesome_! This president kicks ass! I've never been _happier_ to be an American. Stand proud, America… We're about to take over the world!"

"…By _killing_ everyone?!"

"Just the ones that don't get with the program… Manifest destiny, Lana… Manifest destiny."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

And so ends our little homage to Frank Miller's "_The Dark Night Returns_".  
The entire next chapter is nothing but a lengthy author's note which should clear up some questions.


	71. Chapter 71

**LXXI  
A ****_Long_**** Note From The Author**

Hooray!

Great job everyone! Give yourselves a pat on the back. Seventy-one chapters… wow. You're a dedicated (and _patient_) reader… and I _really_ thank you for it. While I've had an idea of where I was going, it seemed some nights I was traveling there by the stars.

**So Let's Recap: **

A twelve-year-old Bruce Wayne tragically lost his parents to the terrorist attacks of Gotham towers in 2001. Over the next ten years, he dedicated himself education and business to run Wayne Industries and secretly used WI's nanotech patent to develop wi-screens, but more specifically to build the ultimate weapon.

Raven left idyllic Azarath for Earth to enlist allies in her struggle against her demonic father Trigon. There she met (and fell in love with) Bruce Wayne and they were married in a secret ceremony soon after. As a powerful empath, Raven helped Bruce through his emotional trauma in ways she probably shouldn't have, but they're now back to the happy couple.

Bruce's ward, Captain Richard Grayson dies tragically attempting to disarm a nuclear weapon that Lex Luthor had intended for Big Blue (e.g. Superman). President Lois Lane enlisted Scott and Barda Free to hide Clark while Luthor's weapon was to be retrieved.

What the reader does not immediately realize is that The League of Assassins (under Ra's al Ghul) is the _true_ threat. The League uses the Kahndaqi situation as a cover to launch a massive attack upon the White House, killing President Lane and most other federal politicians. The League intends to have their inside man, the Secretary of Defense, take over the government after the attack, but _unfortunately_ Lex Luthor miraculously survives.

On top of this, Black Adam is resurrected in Kahndaq and is determined to fight Big Blue to appease his people. However, he develops sympathy for his fellow champion and will let him live… if Clark joins him. Adam has also developed a massive crush on Barda.

Having suffered a setback with his initial plan, Ra's uses his daughter Talia to take over the mind of Lex Luthor (since Lex declined the offer to voluntarily join the League). Under Talia's control, the League utilizes Wayne's ultimate weapon against Kahndaq at the funeral for Dick, making it appear Luthor has control of the weapon.

The Ultimate Weapon re-organizes elements of the free-floating nanites composing the wi-screens into the deadly poison sarin, _even_ inside people's lungs. What I had not mentioned is that the program can _only_ be accessed via a live DNA blood sample/handprint taken directly from Bruce with pass code. Remember, Bruce had already targeted Kahndaq, but it still seems unlikely that Luthor _or_ the League could have commandeered the weapon as easily as they makes it out to be…

_Phew_…

The previous chapter "_The Eulogy_" was the birthplace of this whole FanFic. But it was never meant to be spoken by Lex Luthor, or Bruce Wayne, or _any_ character you would know. In fact, it was never meant to even be a FanFic…

The seed was planted when I read K. Eric Drexler's "_Engines of Creation: The Coming Era of Nanotechnology_" (originally published in 1986), especially the concept of nanites as replicating assemblers.

Somehow, the idea of free-floating assembler nanites, remotely controlled by a microwave signal to exterminate all life, took shape in my brain. A predilection from reading too many comics with a degree in science I suppose. The horror of the unseen combined with technology-run-amok.

Originally, the story was about an industrialist, more like Tony Stark than Bruce Wayne, who made battle suits. And like our Luthor, this industrialist had become the president. Also he's a widower and has a daughter who's all grown up and also very bright. Since her father makes super-powered flying suits (like Iron Man), the Air Force uses these suits (like Iron Man), and she is one of the best pilots around, she becomes an Air Force Captain.

You should see _some_ similarities now…

In the _original_ story idea, a Middle Eastern nation claims to have a super-powered child with the power of divine fire who will exterminate all enemies. The daughter and her team of armored commandos are sent to investigate.

But of course, the whole thing was a trap. The team investigates, finds the boy who is just a child holding a torch, and the bad guy remote-detonates a nuclear bomb hidden beside them. They all die. The Middle Eastern nation celebrates and dad… goes _insane_.

At her state funeral, the president pulls a "_Luthor_". The offending nation is instantly wiped out by his ultimate weapon - which no one _knew_ he even had. He then lays down the law to the world: you will live in peace…or you will _die_. I had code-named this idea "_In This Issue… Everybody Dies!_" and quite honestly had only written the speech. But what a speech!

And it sat there for about five years.

And then my wife started writing Twilight FanFics. She enjoyed them and talked about her reviews, her requests, and look dear, there's a comics section…

And I knew I could adapt "_In This Issue… Everybody Dies!_". And that it _had_ to be Batman. But what if… it only had Bruce Wayne?... What if Bruce Wayne was the president who threw the switch because Richard died?...

But in the end, I couldn't do that to Bruce.

In his heart of hearts, Bruce is not a killer, he never was. As Batman, he inflicts pain upon criminals to appease the pain in his tattered soul, to quench his supernatural need for justice. Bruce Wayne will save the innocent and punish the guilty, but to kill others would be to destroy his own soul. He's not _that_ guy.

As inspiration, I have two toys: Ra's al Ghul from the Trinity collection and The AME-COMI Raven Demon Daughter Variant. The only toys I own, honest. They worked their ways into the idea… I knew I wanted the '_What if Bruce and Raven were married?_' aspect before I even began typing. I love both characters and knew that would be an interesting pairing. They seemed so right for one another… but also a little wrong. There would be challenges.

It was one of those _Eureka!_ moments with Ra's and his Azarath connection. What if Ra's and Azar had been lovers, reflections of Bruce and Raven from one thousand years ago? But their paths had taken them in very different directions… Instead of the Lazarus pit, Ra's is a will so strong, he can forcibly separate other spirits from their physical body and mold them into his own likeness. More of a demon than vampire.

There's been some pretty amazing twists and turns through the 70 chapters, all to get to the place where the idea originally came from. I've thrown in _far_ too many of the DC characters along the way, scrambling to make them fit, one way or another… That's how you get to 70 chapters!

But now we are approaching the climax. The Grande Finale. When you realize that the ultimate weapon was _not_ the ultimate evil, only the tool used to summon the devil…

Dear reader… Trigon awaits.

But first, there's the matter of Clark, Barda, Scott and Black Adam.


	72. Chapter 72

**LXXII**  
**Across the Desert Skies**

"DON'T YOU _DARE_ TAKE THAT HAND!"

Clark recognized the loud, feminine voice. The bark of command, the promise of violence… _Barda_?! Streaking through the sky on their aero disks towards the ruins of Hadrha were Scott and Barda Free. Before him, Adam stood, also transfixed, while the strange couple touched down upon the ancient steps. As she landed, Adam shifted his offered hand to Barda.

"If you have come to offer me your hand in his stead, then I gladly accept and name it as the hand of my queen. To Clark, I offer brotherly concern, but to you, the fairest of space and time… to you I would offer my eternal heart. Now with your own eyes brother, console thyself. Bear witness that love is not forsaken, even to gods."

Through her scowl, Barda stared at Adam quizzically, crossing her arms.

"…You think I'm _pretty_?"

"Beautiful beyond the reckless courage of desperate men. Strength beyond the mountain's eternal coast. Passions deeper than the ocean's darkest depths. The bonds of a marriage poorly cast will not withstand the rigors of eternity, _pretty_ one."

"Scott, quit sticking your finger down your throat and start writing some of this down. The whole 'raised on Apokolips' only works as an excuse for so _long_…"

"A warrior's spirit has cast aside your womanly desires. As war wears away the tender seasons, kindness is too often misconstrued as love." Adam continued. "Your husband's inherent weakness has clothed beauty's measure behind war's mantle for _far_ too long. A woman's heart will never blossom among the weeds of cowards. Let Adam brush aside the armor to free the _woman_ from craven neglect…"

"If you're _done_ flirting with my wife, Adam, we're here to save Clark... Step aside." Scott had had enough.

"You shall address me as _Teth_ Adam, false god… And I am not done with your _wife_. The very destiny of the stars has granted me fortune's providence…the half of my life stolen from my breaking heart by uncaring gods, the very joy they stole from me, has been allowed to return once more. The gods themselves will envy the glory of our eternal devotion. It is you who will _not_ stand in the way of Adam."

"I will_._"

When Scott replied with these two words, both Clark and Barda felt _something_ in the air… powerful, undeniable. The very essence of existence rallied to Scott Free's cause. Clark pondered for a moment… if there _was_ such a thing as destiny, he knew it had no power over Scott Free.

"Then I _accept_ your challenge, false god. To the victor, Barda's love! She will be shown that even the bonds of matrimony can not hold the god of freedom to his wife's sweet succor. You were born to be free… it is your very nature…So be it. Adam shall set you free you from life itself!"

"Scott, you _don't_ have to do this. I'm not some prize to be won!" Barda could not conceal the pleading in her voice.

"Your battle is with _me_, Adam!" Clark stood defiant, ready to fight.

"Well met, Brother…" Adam placed a hand on Clark's shoulder and with a motion, brought the man of steel to his knees, "…but even Hathor _Herself_ could not heal your broken heart as you are now. Love has defeated you utterly, burned the fields of your known desires. _Patience_. Only time may wash ashore those precious, shining things that you believe are lost forever in an ocean of despair. It will come back to you… in time."

"He's right, Clark. You're in no shape to fight. I will take your place and champion America. But mostly, I'm going to kick his ass for Barda." Scott glared at Adam. "We have unfinished business."

"Scott, stop being so pig-headed!" Barda took Scott by the shoulders and spun him around to face her. After her brief encounter with Black Adam, she knew this was someone you did not _willingly_ fight. Especially if you were a physical creampuff like Scott Free.

"If it's for your love Barda, no force in the universe can stop me." He guided her head down to his… their kiss showing her how powerful her god of New Genesis _truly_ was. Scott lips left hers, leaving her with a desire for more, to be with him alone away from the concerns of a world gone mad. He used mother box to project words into her mind…

"_While I keep him busy, get Clark out of here. I'm counting on you." _Scott then turned back to Black Adam.

"Adam, you reached out your hand to Clark... I will offer you the same. _Accept_ the love that Barda and I share, the vows we have taken and the trials we have overcome to be with one another. She has no desire to be with you. Accept Barda's decision, her choice. If you can do this, I will fight you _only_ as the champion of America."

"Then tell me the words you would like carved onto your epitaph, Scott Free. I will use stone from the Rock of Eternity _itself_ to preserve them for the ages..."

**Next Issue: Mister Miracle vs. Black Adam, Round 2!**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Is it _terribly_ wrong to enjoy writing Black Adam as a lovesick, Shakespearian villain this much? Sure he's a cad, but who else would say "_A woman's heart will never blossom among the weeds of cowards_"?


	73. Chapter 73

**LXXIII  
Mister Miracle vs. Black Adam, Round 2**

In a _fair_ fight, Scott knew that Black Adam would smear him across the Earth. The new god had avoided physical confrontation whenever he could, relying instead on his wits and technology in the war-world of Apokolips. As such, he had formulated a plan… but first he needed to give Clark some time to escape, to get closer to the sun and away from the poisoned air of Kahndaq.

But he had forgotten how fast Adam was…

In the blink of an eye, Scott was hurtling above the Earth with the champion of lightning. The dark warrior took the new god to the edge of space where the air was thin before Scott even had a chance to exhale.

"Do you enjoy the view from here, false god? Does it suit you?"

"…As good a place as any for our battle."

"Too conceited by far, _little_ god. Not a battle, a burial!"

Before Scott could reply, Adam seized Mister Miracle with both of his mighty hands and carried him back to the Earth at speeds incomprehensible. Scott's thoughts of escape were blotted out by the agony of impact when Adam slammed his body a mile into the hard ground. Adam flew back up through the rock and sand to the surface, leaving the new god entombed beneath tons of the earth's mantle. Adam kicked dirt over the mile-long tunnel he had created using Scott as a battering ram.

"What words did you wish on your tombstone, coward? Your answer failed to reach my ears."

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch... Ptooey!" From behind Adam, Scott Free spit dirt from his mouth.

"A _strange_ request, but so be it... You do not accept your demise so easily."

"So I've been told."

Scott had _prepared_ this time. His mother box circuitry had been long ago woven into his Mister Miracle suit and he had made some _beneficial_ calibrations this time. Even though the reverse kinetic energy field transformer recharge system was woefully inefficient, Adam hit him with such force that his mother box was now fully charged. It also had the added benefit of absorbing _most_ of Adam's impact, but the champion's awesome level of physical power was beyond even mother box's ability to tame.

Scott barely had time to _blink_ before Adam slammed a fist at lightning speed into his gut. The new god _felt_ it… but the reverse kinetic field had saved his midsection from being aerated. He just needed to stall for time. A full powered Clark could even the odds.

"You are a man of cunning, methinks. Does your wife value such convictions?" Adam held him now, speaking only inches away from his ear. The reverse kinetic field was doing its job… He was still alive.

"Apokolips has demonstrated many times that _all_ is fair in war… Barda will _never_ love you."

"Women can be _made_ to love if a man is bold. A strong hand will _create_ what is desired."

"She would rather die than be your slave, Adam."

"She may, but only then will the taint you have inflicted upon her mind cease to exist. Her will to live shall create a new life for her as my queen! She will be broken down, all feelings for you cast aside as wasted folly and the heavens themselves rejoice."

"Your _love_ is tyranny. We know this _affection_ far too well upon the dark coils of Apokolips. Is this the will of the gods whom you champion?"

"Let me reveal the _true_ will of the gods … SHAZAM!"

Adam's release of Scott was instantaneous. Why had he…?

Five million volts of lightning struck Scott _directly_ as the clap of thunder deafened him, while his muscles contracted to the lightning's will, involuntarily bringing him to his knees. He felt his heart stop and willed it back to life as every muscle in his body strained… His damage was only superficial - the damage to the circuitry of his mother box more substantial… Adam's _true_ target.

"Is the will of the gods clearer to you now? Has their touch enlightened your soul?" Adam was laughing mockingly.

The champion had dodged the lightning he had called down. Did this mean he was _vulnerable_ to it? It was an idea Scott was willing to try. Mother box was desperately repairing the damage the strike had caused to its wiring, but the New Genesis technology was still able to build a sizable electrical charge in his suit as Scott flew as fast as aero disks would propel him towards Adam.

It was like running full-force into a mountainside, but Scott was able to release something _close_ to a lightning strike into Adam, amperage that would have dropped (or killed) an ordinary man. But Adam was no ordinary man. The champion of the gods of ancient Egypt only smiled.

"Perhaps you _like_ the taste of pain… or was it that my lesson was unclear… SHAZAM!"

Mercifully, mother box had re-wired a direct channel to the soles of his boots, acting as a lightning rod to its more delicate circuits… even so, the strike had taken its toll. Circuits had fried where the bolt had connected and parts of him were now smoldering. Again Adam had fled the lightning, letting Scott bear the brunt.

"_Come_… Share the lesson with me Adam." Scott's voice was raspy, he had lost his saliva from the two strikes.

"You _are_ clever… if nothing else. As the magic lightning changed the mortal to the immortal champion you see before you, so too will it reduce this champion to long-dead mortal bones."

"_Shazam_..." Scott waited… nothing happened.

"But _only_ if the champion speaks the word, false god."

"What word?"

"Too clever by far. Are you ready to die now?..."

He was not, but then…Scott's lungs felt like they had caught on fire. His breathing increased as the blood coursing through his veins seemed to carry shards of broken glass back to his heart. And then he could not breathe.

Convulsions wracked his battered body leading to the paralysis of his limbs. His injured mother box diverted all energy to healing while Scott willed his body to keep working, even as it tumbled to the sand… Fallen.

Even the mighty Adam crumpled over for an instant, before drawing a deep breath and releasing a small hurricane from his own lungs, causing a sand storm before him.

"…What trickery is _this_?! You poison the air _itself_!" Thunder clouds began to gather overhead, echoing black rage.

Teth Adam seized a prone Scott Free from the desert sands, lifting him off the ground with incredible force to gaze eye to eye with the champion - a Scott Free struggling for life, his will alone allowing him to survive the _sarin_ destroying his respiratory system if nothing else. It was all he could do to stare into eyes as black as the storm clouds above.

"Time to die, little god."


	74. Chapter 74

**LXXIV  
The Hold**

In the blink of an eye, Barda watched as Black Adam flew at speed beyond comprehension into the heavens, her idiot husband in tow. He was risking his life for the two stronger heroes that remained behind… and she would _not_ let him down.

"Clark, listen to me. You need to fly us closer to the sun. Heal."

"You have to save him, Barda! That madman will tear him apart…"

"_We'll_ save him, Clark. He's buying us time. Start flying _now_!"

Although Barda could fly with her aero disks, there was no way she could ever match Clark's speed. The Kryptonian scooped the Female Fury in his arms and took to the sky, flying straight at the sun. With each second, he left the radioactive air in his wake, feeling stronger, the sky a blue blur of speed.

"What's the plan, Barda?"

"For us to save his butt… once you're at one hundred percent."

"Can't we just reason with him? I think he's looking for friends."

"Really, Clark? I thought he was looking for _sex_. You know, if you were ever into guys, I could probably hook the two of you up…"

"I could drop you, you know."

"Now you know how I _feel_… Listen, we'll talk to him _after_ we smack him around. If we don't like the answers, we'll smack him around some more. But in order to do that, we need you back to your old self. Got it?"

He felt stronger, but he knew the green poison still weakened him. Adam had pushed him to his knees as though he were a child. There could be no excuses when next he stood against Adam. He _had_ to be ready to fight.

Flying above the world, he gazed back. The simple clarity of the blue and white planet below, the sun shining through the void of space upon his back. It was strange to share this experience with someone. It had been his private joy since he had learned to fly… He would have loved to have Lois here, to show her the beauty of the planet they had shared. Barda slipped behind him and wrapped her arms around him.

"… Ummm… Barda? I'll be alright... just feeling sentimental. " Her embrace was closer to a bear's hug than one of a friend, trapping his arms under her own, squeezing.

"_Make_ me let you go, Clark. Then I'll _know_ that you're healed. Break my hold."

"A test of strength? We don't have time for this."

"I'm not letting go until you break my hold. If you can't free yourself from this, Adam will crush you. Keep talking and I'll just squeeze harder."

Clark felt the power of the woman from Apokolips compressing his ribs. Until recently, he had believed that his own physical power had been irrefutable, absolute. Now he wondered if even at _full_ power, he could break Barda's grip, let alone save her husband from a three thousand year-old being who had the strength of the gods.

"You're not even trying, Clark."

It was true, he wasn't… Clark attempted to push his arms away from his side, but the bear hug remained unbroken. His strength was returning, but the doubt within him sabotaged his ability to use it.

"_Clark_… Men like Adam, they only believe in strength. That's why he's chosen you and I. He would make us lords of the earth, to rule over the weak. If this was your true desire, you could break my hold."

"That's…_ugh_… not what I… want."

"Good… Draw your strength from the light. From the memory of Lois and all she believed in."

That was true. Lois had believed in a fellowship of the stars. And now her dreams only lived in Clark. He had been blessed with her great vision, but could no longer see through his tears. He must live so that the dreams he carried with him would live.

"That's it, Clark. You're getting stronger. The world that Adam would create would go against everything Lois ever believed in."

Adam would enslave the world. As the righteous embodiment of gods that had long since faded into the annals of time, this tyrant would conquer without mercy. A man of the past when the borders of empires were defined by death. A time when death counted the victor.

His super vision returning and his eyes clearing, Clark could see the struggle below. _Something_ had happened… Adam and Scott were locked in a titanic struggle…

"Barda! You've got to let me go! He's going to _kill_ him!"

"Then break my _damned_ grip! Or else I swear to the Highfather I'll crush the life out of you for _letting_ him die!"

A green glow emanated from the Kryptonian's body, ejecting all traces of radiation from his body. For a moment after, he glowed of pure light, his body burning against Barda. He pulled free from her grip, free from any doubts and the poison that had weakened him. His friend was in imminent danger and he would save him.

The man of steel was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving Barda alone at the edge of the sky.


	75. Chapter 75

**Chapter Twelve: World War Wayne**

**LXXV  
Betrayal**

How?

In the forefront of mourners for Richard Grayson, it was the only thing coursing through Bruce Wayne's mind… A thousand scenarios all failing to answer one simple question… How? He would not let the awful thing that the president had said be true _until_ that question was answered. Luthor's words hung upon the gray skies causing the world to stand still as Bruce Wayne went over the inner workings of the engine of destruction…

How?

Bruce had _not_ issued the command… He had _not_ pulled that trigger. But he had defined the area, and that was something that _only_ he could do. The DNA/blood cell encryption was unbreakable - there was only one reader in existence and it was located in the caves below Wayne Manor.

How?

At first, he had hoped Luthor was _bluffing_, inferring from old Wayne Industries research that maybe Wayne _did_ have some ultimate weapon. That had been the easy answer. But now there was the distinct possibility that he was not. That the thing he should have _never_ created had just killed 11 million people…

_Worry about it later, Wayne! Think!_

And there it _was_… The hard answer. The one he could no longer avoid. The image he had unconsciously _pushed_ out of his mind yesterday now crawled from the chasm of sanity to haunt him. The high-altitude/space hybrid suit that David Cain wore… It not only _looked_ like the one they were working on… it _was_ the one they were working on.

The awful truth hit him then. The dots connected - slicing a line through his heart. However much he didn't want it to be true, it was the only explanation.

No longer could Bruce suppress the cry of anguish emanating from his core… a guttural moan of suffering lost to the crowd. Raven wrapped gentle arms around him, held him, whispering into his ear.

"_Who my love? Only tell me who._"

Bruce struggled to control his breathing, to control his maddened lungs which shook in his chest. Shudders racked him until Raven took his hand. The pounding mantra of how was now replaced by _why_. A trusted friend had just enabled the murder of eleven million people. No bonds of familiarity or loyalty would ever stop Bruce Wayne from the course of justice. Time to leave.

"Us…Luthor and woman…Barbara…and… Lucius."

The familiar darkness swirled around him once more as his family reappeared in the Wayne living room. Alfred seemed taken aback by the sudden journey, while Arella was alert. Raven put her arms once more around Bruce to hold him close.

"Be strong, my love. War is upon us."

She disappeared once again in a cloud of bilious black smoke only to reappear seconds later with Barbara Gordon and Lucius Fox, who had been sitting side-by-side at the funeral. Both of them fell to the ground, unsteady. Raven teleported into the astral dimensions once more.

She finally reappeared a moment later, holding firmly onto Lex Luthor and the mysterious woman. Lex recovered himself and scanned the room for a moment before his eyes once again settled on Wayne.

"Is this to be _retribution_, Wayne? Shall I die for my sins against man?" As contemptuous as ever.

"_Your_ sins, Luthor? Since when did you start admitting to your crimes? Or _reading_ your speeches for that matter?" Bruce turned his gaze to the woman standing beside Luthor. It seemed impossible, but he wondered... as she gently removed her niqab and gazed back into the depths of his soul, he felt there was something _hypnotic_ about her cinnamon features, her liquid eyes…

"_Beloved_."

For a second, Bruce felt himself slipping to the familiar island in his soul…

That vision passed as he _snapped_ back to reality – watching as Talia al Ghul suddenly collapsed to the floor, unconscious before impact. His wife, eyes glowing amber, glared down at her. Bruce felt Raven's anger crackle in the very air around them.

"If you ever so much as _look_ at my husband again, witch… I will _personally_ feed your soul to the Nebu!"

Talia al Ghul could control a soul. Raven Wayne controlled one thousand.

"…Kill that _bitch_!" Lex Luthor had now regained control of himself… somewhat. "This was all a League plot, Wayne. They _used_ me to kill everyone in Kahndaq. I'll have Ra's al Ghul's head on a platter before this day is over!" Luthor was taking a device from his pocket…

"Did you give that nuclear bomb to Kahndaq?" It was Barbara Gordon who spoke, surprisingly calm, slipping high heeled shoes off her feet.

"… Yes Miss Gordon, I _did_. Would you have something to say about it?..."

**SMACK!**

One hundred and twenty-five pounds of Barbara Gordon was channeled through her right fist to Lex Luthor's jaw.

Bruce had witnessed Jim Gordon drop a man with an unbelievably powerful right-hook twelve years ago. That man had been Tony Zucco, the murderer who had killed Richard's parents. Two hundred pounds of murderous rage had come crashing to the floor after Jim Gordon had unleashed a lightning-fast right hand, breaking the gangster's jaw in three places before Richard could be harmed. They called him "_Glass-Jaw_-_Tony"_ after that night, but Bruce Wayne was not so naïve. James Gordon had hands of stone.

Barbara Gordon was her father's daughter and then some.

Lex Luthor lie insensible on the floor next to Talia. Staring at the unconscious politician, Bruce Wayne had no doubt that Luthor's jaw (_at the very least_) was dislocated.

"That's for Richard, you _son-of-a-bitch_!" Barbara Gordon rubbed the knuckles on her right hand, staring down derisively at the president, cheeks aglow with fury. Alfred dashed off for the first-aid kit and ice.

"_Bruce_…" Lucius stared at the down-and-out politician. "I know he's the president, but this man is _very_ dangerous. We should hand him over to the authorities. Tell the world it was all Luthor's madness, try to make it right before World War 3 begins."

"Why did you do it, Lucius?" There was cold blue fire in Bruce's eyes that made Lucius Fox unable to meet his stare.

"Do _what_, Bruce?"

"It was _you_ who gave the command this morning. _You_ were the one who used the engine of destruction to murder eleven million people... _Why_?"

"Lex Luthor is a criminal mastermind, Bruce. He must have figured some way to hack into your system."

"There was _no_ way, Lucius. You were the only one I told when I moved the data to Kahndaq. There are only _two_ living DNA strands that can even access the command center. Yours and mine. That high altitude suit that Cain was wearing when he boarded the CERN satellite, that was the Wayne Industries prototype you were working on. How long have you been working for the League, Lucius?"

"…Twelve years. Twelve years, _patiently_ waiting… It wasn't an easy thing to lose the presidency of Wayne Industries to a twenty-year-old only because his last name matched the stationary."

"But why, Lucius? Why kill so many people?"

"The life eternal, Mr. Wayne… You remember that long vacation I took to Switzerland after your successful nomination?"

"You were in an automobile accident. I remember."

"Accident…I _died_, Bruce… The League brought me back. This body you see before you, it wasn't the one I left Gotham with."

"You had extensive reconstructive surgery…"

"No Bruce, no surgery in the world could have saved me... My soul was given a new body, a second chance by Ra's al Ghul. The only price was to serve a cause far greater than any you have ever known… But I had _sincerely_ hoped that you would be the one to push the button…

…It wasn't an easy thing to do, I assure you. After Richard's death and the destruction of the White House… all that _rage_ inside you, all that _grief_… and still you wouldn't do it... So it fell to me. It always falls to me."

"_Why_, Lucius?!"

Bruce Wayne had gripped both lapels of the black suit Lucius Fox wore, pinning him against the wall. Eyes of burning vengeance only inches away bored into the old CEO's soul. Lucius Fox simply turned his glance sideways, past the burning stare of Bruce Wayne to that of his wife, a wide grin spreading across his face as he looked at Raven Wayne.

"Because the League made a deal with the devil, Mr. Wayne."


	76. Chapter 76

**LXXVI  
The Devil's Deal**

As the dots had connected for her husband, the _true_ horror the League had crafted suddenly revealed itself to Raven Wayne. As Bruce had pulled aside the sheet of the illusion to reveal the betrayal of Lucius Fox, the entire stage had come crashing down to reveal the gates of Hell to Raven.

_The soul barrier_.

As a half-demon, she knew of its existence only too well. The psychic barrier that protected the Earth from that which would destroy it. The circle of balance; energy left, energy entered, the order was maintained. On either side of the great barrier wall flowed the entropic seas of Styx. Its black tides drifting across the soul-shattering barrier, welcoming any fool who had not paid the price… one soul in, one soul out. One soul for the dead, one soul for the living. There were lessons to learn on either side.

Eleven million souls.

Nebu demons, like some monstrous dogs at her father's heels, _ate_ souls. They were the end of existence, scavengers of the final apocalypse. As the murdered souls of Kahndaq passed through the soul barrier into the jaws of the Nebu, an imbalance was created, a void of devoured souls, longing to be filled.

A void to be filled by Trigon.

This was his passage. The League, mad with their desire to end the human race, had made a deal with the devil. Eleven million souls destroyed, replaced by Trigon…

"Bruce… The League… They've killed these people to allow Trigon passage to Earth with _all_ of his power! It was a sacrifice!"

"It's too late, Wayne." Lucius smiled at Bruce. "And the best part of it is my _reward_… my next body… is _yours_!" Lucius continued giggling like an insane child.

"Raven, knock him out for me, please." Bruce removed his hands from his CEO, turning aside as Lucius cackled like a mad hyena behind him. And then the man who had betrayed them all suddenly stopped laughing, and fell motionless to the floor… his consciousness left abandoned three dimensions away.

"…His mind is sick, my love."

"I know. That will be brought to bear when he faces prosecution... For now, we have larger problems. _Much_ larger problems. Alfred, leave Arella with the bag of ice and fetch some rope and sheets. We'll need Lucius and Luthor's woman tied and gagged."

"Do you wish the hairless one healed?" It was Arella.

"If you could Arella… I hate to say it, but we're going to need Luthor... World order will need him."

Arella tossed the bag of ice aside and placed both of her hands on either side of Luthor's jaw. The words and phrases she uttered sounded like nothing Bruce had ever heard before. He instinctively knew it was _actual_ magic she was performing.

The president groaned, regained consciousness, and began to rub his jaw. He opened his eyes to see Arella smiling down at him, black curly hair surrounding two bright, violet eyes.

"I'll grant _you_ a pardon… The rest of you will all be tried for conspiracy and treason. How dare _you_!" Luthor slowly rose to his feet. It was Bruce Wayne who replied.

"Luthor, get your shiny head out of your ass. You'd still be a League puppet if we didn't rescue you...The entire world is about to end and you're still acting like a prima donna... Just who the hell is that woman?"

Luthor pondered for an instance before answering, and then grinned at Wayne.

"That is Talia al Ghul, daughter of Ra's al Ghul, age-old leader of the League of Assassins. She was the one giving the speech at the funeral through my mouth."

"The answer to the _riddle_!" It was Barbara Gordon. "_Ra's al Ghul_, that's what Edward Nigma's last riddle meant. He must have been with the League as well."

"And unfortunately Lucius Fox as well." Bruce gestured to the prone figure of the fallen business leader. "I'm sorry Mr. President, but I have reason to believe my CEO was the one who organized the attack on the White House."

"As well as the late Secretary of Defense. I _knew_ I recognized that space suit as one of yours, Wayne... I had thought that perhaps _you_ were a member of the League."

"Likewise… Unfortunately, the League's plan is _bigger_ than anything we could have guessed..."

"I see… brief me on the trip, Wayne. I need to get to the Pentagon and in front of a camera before a nuclear war."

"I can have you there in a heartbeat, Mr. President. _Once_ you know what we're up against."

"Bruce, are you _insane_?! He'll have us killed the moment he sets foot in the Pentagon!" Barbara was always the voice of reason.

"Lex…" Bruce took a deep breath and stared at the president. "…Satan _Himself_ is about to set foot upon the Earth and unleash the wrath of Hell. The League believes they are the chosen ones in this apocalypse, the only tribe who will be left standing. We have one chance of stopping that from happening and she's standing right beside me. Lex Luthor, I would like to introduce you to Mrs. Raven Wayne, my wife."

Raven extended a hand to Lex Luthor who did _not_ accept it.

"You do not have to fear me, Mr. Luthor." Raven did not retract her hand.

"_Don't I?_..." The president scowled. Luthor made the mistake of glancing over at Bruce Wayne to gauge his reaction. The piercing blue steel in his eyes drilled through him... He accepted Raven's hand.

"You do not trust strangers." There was no uncertainty in Raven's voice as she grasped his hand, no attempts at diffusing an awkward situation. She simply stated it as fact.

"Get out of my head." Luthor broke the handshake as though Raven's thoughts were able to cross the shared physical contact of their palms.

"I was not _in your head_, Mr. Luthor. Your emotions tell me that you fear others different than you. What Talia has done to you is forbidden by the laws of Azarath. I mean you no harm."

"I mean no disrespect, Mrs. Wayne. It is… _difficult_ for me to accept others different from myself."

Bruce was staring down at an unconscious Lucius. "All that matters right now Luthor is whether you're with us… or _not_. Things are about to get Old-Testament-ugly very shortly."

"Let's be _clear_, Wayne... I am not with you...You are with _me_. I represent the government of the United States of America as its Commander-in-Chief… You are a man whose opinion I value, but I will be the one to coordinate our plan of attack. So, are you with me, Wayne?"

"God forgive me, yes."

"Good. Then let's make it official. Please raise your right hand." For a second, Bruce looked at Luthor dumbfounded, but then slowly raised his right hand as Luthor continued.

"Repeat after me… I, _state your name_, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God."

Any parts of the Oath of Office that Bruce stumbled upon, Luthor aided him with. He still wasn't sure _what_ he was being sworn in for though. Luthor explained...

"Congratulations, Mr. Wayne, I now formally announce you as the new Secretary of Defense. Following the current line of succession, that makes you the Vice President as well. I ask Miss Barbara Gordon to bear witness to this and to please not hit me again… Shall we go?"

"…We shall, Mr. President."

As Raven Wayne _prepared_ to teleport the group of eight to the Pentagon, something smashed through the manor's roof above them.


	77. Chapter 77

**LXXVII  
The Final Round**

Teth Adam held the false god in the air, revealing to the world the pathetic challenger who had dared to face him. This would end _now_. The champion of lightning drew back his fist - readying it for the killing blow - and smiling viciously, _slammed_ it into face of Scott Free in a blur of speed.

A blow that should have removed the new god's head from his neck… which only served to jolt him. That _cursed_ magic suit! Adam seized the black spot upon Mister Miracle's shoulder where the lightning had struck and tore. Scott Free's eyes popped open while his hands latched onto Adam's head and squeezed. The new god was still alive.

Scott thanked the Highfather that mother box still had enough left in her to absorb that last blow. By force of will alone, he had metabolized the last remnants of sarin from his system as Black Adam had hit him with a fist-sized locomotive. The reverse kinetic field was _dangerously_ close to malfunction… His mother box circuitry couldn't take much more.

Adam was attempting to rip the suit from Scott, and had managed to tear a swatch from his shoulder and chest. Scott was attempting to push his thumbs into the champion's black eyes with no success. This had devolved into primal mortal combat. Instead, the new god screamed as he felt Adam's fingers pushing into the flesh below his left shoulder, scraping against his rib. His will sought to push those fingers out.

"Shall I present the Lady Barda with your heart, false god? Your parting gift?" Adam was no longer the calm, cocky man he had been. There was an madness to him now.

"_Say it_." Scott knew he had one chance left to live. Everything he had, he focused on one word.

"Say _what_, coward?"

"Say the word, Adam… _Shazam!_"

The desert sands whipped into winds around the two combatants, swirling like a hurricane sounding a hush… _SSSHHHH_… pleading with Adam to join the chaotic chorus of the maelstrom. Thunder suddenly crashed across the black skies, the sound of KKKZZZMMM echoed throughout the heavens.

"_Not_…_before_…_I rip out_…._your_…_heart_!"

Scott felt one of his ribs break as Adam jammed his fingers deeper into him. The pain did not matter any more as his mind broke into calculations he swore he would never use...

"SAY IT!"

"…_Never_!" The strain was now heavy in his voice.

* * *

Above the two champions, gods mankind had long forgotten gazed in wonder and terror at the red stranger who stood at the gate of the world. The soul barrier was opening to this demon and his army of monsters. The gods stood transfixed, knowing the great disaster foretold from the beginning of time was upon the mortals who had deserted them. It was too late for intervention now.

A dimension below, a being they acknowledged as the god of freedom was locked in mortal combat with their corrupted champion. Teth Adam had rebelled against their ways. An old man in white robes suddenly appeared before them. His beard was long and white, a being as old as mankind. The jackal-headed god gazed at the wizard as he spoke to them.

"Weigh the weary heart of Shazam, ancient one. There was once a time when it was as heavy as Teth Adam's evil heart, but age has lightened it. As I seek to right the wrongs I have done, grant Adam the boon once granted me by the first wizard. Let Adam choose the path of Shazam if he is willing."

Anubis held the old wizard in his gaze and nodded. The path of the champion need not end on his scale. Wizards created champions and champions could succeed wizards, but only if the old wizard was willing to traverse the path of the dead. The sacrifice need only be made to allow Adam to carry on the old man's role.

The wizard Shazam and the gods of Egypt turned their gaze once more down the sands of battle. Their stare filtering through the souls of the dead in the skies above Kahndaq, each whispering the word… _Shazam_. Past a blue bolt who hurtled back to earth, who also said the word, not understanding what had compelled him to do so, only knowing that he _must_ say it.

* * *

As the god of freedom and free will, Scott was also cursed with its antithesis… the _anti-life equation__1_. All components ran through his mind, calculating the destruction of the free will of sentient beings. Gods of free will were also gods of subservience.

Adams crushed the remaining ribs over his heart, invading fingers forced their way past his lung to the beating organ below. In an epiphany of pain, the equation finally completed in Scott's mind. With all his remaining breath, he screamed one last time…

"**SAY IT!"**

"…_Shazam_."

It was only a _whisper_. Eyes of black venom cursed the new god with their glare.

A massive bolt of lightning flashed alongside a streaking Clark, thunder rattled his descent. He had caught sight of Scott and Adam as he soared through the storm clouds crowding the skies above the two titans. A mere second away, the man of steel watched as the lightning struck Black Adam, with Scott Free held too close to escape its charge.

A blinding light and they were gone.. and then Mister Miracle lay on the burnt sand fifteen feet away, thrown from the lightning strike. Where they had stood only a second ago, an ancient pile of bones remained. Clark landed beside the fallen god.

"Scott?! Are you OK?" Clark felt _ridiculous_ asking this. Mister Miracle's costume was shred to tatters, steam rising from his body. Through a gaping wound in his chest, he could see the new god's still-beating heart.

"…_Barda_?" It was almost an inaudible whisper.

"I'll get her."

Like a bolt of blue, he took to the skies again. He wasn't even sure how Scott was alive, let alone able to talk. Within seconds, he snatched the fabled warrior woman of Apokolips, and reversed direction, taking her back to the Earth to her gravely injured husband.

"Where is Adam?! I will tear him apart for this!"

"Those are his bones, Barda. Scott _beat_ him… I arrived one second _after_ the battle."

"Scott Free… you _stupid_ fool. You stupid fool…" Barda fell to her knees beside the only man she had ever loved. The tears flowed freely now as the warrior's hand gently brushed his cheek. "Don't you _dare_ die. I swear I'll kill you if you do."

With reverence, Barda took her mother box and placed it upon the mangled flesh and bone of her husband's chest. It began to heal him, but how could it heal _that_? She saw that his own mother box was dead… His bright costume disintegrating into pieces of fabric that blew across the desert sands, leaving the remnants of the man it had given its life to.

"Will it heal him?" Clark stood behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know… He's barely alive."

"What can I do? Does your mother box need power?"

"It will… Scott built an electrical outlet into it, but I don't think there's an extension cord long enough… We can't move him."

"I'll get one. Stay with him, Barda"

The last son of Krypton flew towards the camp sites near the temple of Hadrha when he suddenly noticed something. It was _quiet_. There were no voices, no movement of men, even a lack of breathing from the encampment. Had they _fled_?

As he approached, he saw the true reason. Everyone was _dead_. Judging from the state of their bodies, it had happened very recently. Had Adam done something? Had Scott? Clark would have to solve the mystery later.

He spotted what he had been searching for… a portable generator which was still running. Picking up the generator and cord, he carefully flew back to where Barda remained with her husband. Following Barda's direction, he plugged in the mother box.

"I should have _stayed_ with him... I'm so sorry, Scott… I should have been here with you…" The tall woman wiped the tears from her eyes.

"He's the _toughest_ guy I've ever met... He'll pull through, Barda. I'll carry an _entire_ hospital to this spot if I have to…"

"…_Raven Wayne_." Something clicked in Barda. She stared intensely at Clark.

"I'm sorry, I don't know that hospital…"

"Bruce Wayne's wife, Raven. She can transport people across space and dimensions as easily as you would walk to the other side of the room. That's what he said. She can bring him to a hospital, to anywhere... You have to find her!"

"Where?"

"Gotham Towers… There was a funeral… _Go_!"

For half a mile, Barda watched as grains of sand fell back to the desert floor along Clark's flight path, a sonic boom dissipating in the distance. She hadn't even seen him leave.

1. Created by Jack Kirby, the Anti-Life Equation is a formula to subvert the will of all sentient beings. It is called the Anti-Life Equation because "if someone possesses absolute control over you - you're not really alive."

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
You've caught up to me. I won't be able to maintain this once a day posting schedule but I will aim for twice per week


	78. Chapter 78

**LXXVIII  
News From Around The World…**

"Good morning and welcome back to the Kahndaq Crisis. We're only thirty minutes into the what has been called the _Luthor Decree_, and already news is poring in from around the globe. Satellite images of Shiruta, the capital city of Kahndaq, have indeed confirmed that its civilians have perished where they stood. Bodies lie in the streets and there has been no signs of life from the small eastern nation. It would seem that its entire population of eleven million has indeed suffered catastrophic casualties in the largest single attack in human history.

Whether this confirms that America has _indeed_ developed a super-weapon remains to be seen… What is clear is that other nations are taking this threat _very_ seriously. The British Prime Minister has requested talks with the American president before any decision will be made. The Russian president has stated that he will wipe any country off the map that bows before the Americans. Many other countries are also threatening retaliation or non capitulation.

We have reports that Americans abroad are being rounded up and held captive by foreign governments to be used as human shields. Flights into American air terminals are now being halted as the increased volume has overwhelmed all agencies. People are desperate to get into the United States at any cost.

Even stranger are the current whereabouts of President Luthor... Footage taken from the Grayson funeral have now identified the young lady who was present with Bruce Wayne suddenly appear behind the president and his mysterious guest and then disappear in a cloud of black smoke.

Also missing from the funeral in this manner are the Bruce Wayne party, Lucius Fox and Barbara Gordon, two high-level Wayne employees who are said to have disappeared in similar fashion. There whereabouts are also unknown. Authorities are investigating.

What has begun as a terrorist attack on the White House only one day ago has now developed into America vs. the world. Many prominent citizens have begun to call upon the president to retract his decree while the UN has declared the genocide of Kahndaq to be a crime against humanity… the likes of which have not been witnessed since Adolph Hitler was in power.

We will keep you updated as more details come to light. We now take you live to scenes from around the world…"

* * *

Everyone stared at the man who had flown straight through the Wayne estate roof as pieces of ceiling continued to fall on the floor. The sun shone through the newly created hole, illuminating bits of dust and gypsum floating throughout the air. Standing before them was the imposing figure of Big Blue, staring at Arella.

"Are you Raven Wayne?" Arella stared at the stranger for some time in a state of shock before answering.

"…No, I'm her mother. What are _you_?"

"I see my antibodies were a success." It was Luthor who chimed in. "This is Big Blue Madam, until moments ago America's greatest secret weapon. Report to the Pentagon immediately for briefing, soldier."

"Shut up, Luthor. I'll deal with you later… My name is Clark, not Big Blue. You must be Raven Wayne." This time Clark was looking at Raven. "We desperately need your help."

"Of course, but we need to get to the Pentagon, Clark. The safety of the world is at stake."

"Scott Free is dying. He needs medical attention immediately. He's lying in the middle of Kahndaq with a hole in his chest."

It was Bruce who cut in next.

"Raven, get President Luthor and myself to the Pentagon _first_ and then the rest of you can go with Clark. Perhaps Arella can help with Scott. Rejoin me as soon as you can."

"Wayne, if you think for an _instant_ I'm going to allow aliens to fly around as they will, you're sadly mistaken. _Clark_ is government property. He goes with us." Luthor was settled on the matter.

"Raven, fill Clark in on _all_ the details. Now… please take myself, the president and our two hostages to the Pentagon."

For the second time in a matter of minutes, Lex Luthor traveled along a mysterious tunnel of darkness as things unknown to mankind floated at the periphery of his vision. His deepest fears lurked just beyond the tunnel's border, and yet his mind grasped at how it was even possible. His readings on traversable wormholes had been back in university, and yet here they were, more than just scientific musings.

They reappeared in the courtyard at the center of the Pentagon. Luthor suddenly peered seriously at Raven Wayne.

"Are you able to traverse time through these wormholes, Mrs. Wayne?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Luthor, I don't understand. Are you asking if I can travel in time?"

"Exactly."

"No, I don't believe so."

"Fascinating…If you were able to do so, quantum physics would declare that we had just entered a parallel dimension from the one we had left… that would explain a lot of what's been happening lately... Are you ready, Secretary Wayne?"

"One second, Mr. President."

Bruce Wayne gathered Raven into his arms and kissed her for all he was worth. She responded in kind, their mouths reigniting the fires in their hearts of tragedy. Bruce pulled away from her to gaze into her eyes.

"As _soon_ as you can," he whispered.

"I will my love. Remember, I am always by your side."

Raven disappeared into a cloud of black smoke once again as Luthor watched guards begin to approach these sudden strangers in the courtyard, weapons drawn.

"You know Wayne, if our relationship is going to work, you're going to have to start listening to me."

"Never been my strong suit, Lex… Besides, it was an exercise in futility and you know it. Clark would have been over the Atlantic by now even _if_ Raven brought him." Wayne watched as military guards approached them, weapons pointed and ready. One barked an order.

"Kiss the dirt, gentlemen! I will need ID, now!" The only move that Luthor made was to walk forward.

"Captain Morrison, could you please let the media center know I will be addressing the nation in three minutes? And we'll need these two locked in solitary with no visitors unless I authorize it... And put a bag over her head." Luthor pointed to Talia and Lucius.

"I'm sorry, sir, I _will_ need ID." The captain did not back down. Luthor then turned to the next officer.

"Captain Jones, on July 7th at fifteen-hundred twenty-two hours, you asked me if I was alright while I was deep in thought. I instructed you to never speak to me again under penalty of death. Please shoot Captain Morrison if he keeps blathering on about ID."

The second officer pointed his weapon at the first, beads of sweat forming on _both_ brows.

"My apologies Mr. President," replied Captain Morrison lowering his gun. "I will let the media room know to expect you at once!"

Luthor turned around and glanced back at Bruce who still had his arms raised…

"Are you coming, Wayne?" Bruce jumped forward to catch up with Luthor while soldiers formed a barrier around them for protection.

"So what's the plan, Mr. President?"

"I'm going to address the nation and you're going to get set up for Pentagon security. Look Wayne, I need to know… How does this ultimate weapon of yours _work_?"

"It will never be used again, Luthor. I'm going to destroy it."

"Of course, but how does it _work_?" Bruce sighed. He knew that the genie was out of the bottle now. Even if he _didn't_ tell Luthor, the president could figure out the mechanism easily enough. He probably had a good guess already…

"It's the nanites for the wi-screens. They were all a ruse. With the right combination of microwaves, their chemistry can be recombined into sarin."

Luthor pondered for a few seconds, running the chemistry through his mind as they walked into the Pentagon. He then smiled and snapped his fingers, the mystery solved.

"I see, well done. This is your stop… Mr. Okama," Luthor addressed an Asian man surrounded by large wi-screens. "This is our new Secretary of Defense, Bruce Wayne. Please set him up for top-level security… And Wayne, be sure to open a wi-screen to watch my speech. I'll need you for our meeting in the war room directly afterwards.

And would someone _please_ fetch Miss Teschmacher!"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Eve Teschmacher (played by Valerie Perrine) is Luthor's personal assistant from the 1978 Superman movie. She's even made her way into the comics.


	79. Chapter 79

**LXXIX  
The Gathering Storm**

"…Yes, Mr. Luthor?"

Lex Luthor looked behind his _other_ shoulder to find his personal assistant in all her blonde glory awaiting his command.

"Ah, _there_ you are Miss Teschmacher. Walk with me, I have to be on air in… just under two minutes. Our new secretary of defense claims we are about to have a supernatural visitor shortly. I need to verify that."

"Would that be Mr. Wayne, sir?"

"Yes, that would be Mr. Wayne. You're wasting time."

"We've been monitoring the situation around Kahndaq since your declaration, Sir. A moving speech, by the way. We _have_ noted an unusual event… Would your ultimate weapon account for the cyclone forming over Kahndaq?"

"It's not _my_ ultimate weapon…You mean there's a _tornado_ forming over Kahndaq."

"No sir, this is definitely a cyclone. It's currently centered 600 miles northwest of the Persian Gulf and hasn't budged an inch since we've been monitoring it. _Terrible_ storm clouds… At its current rate, it projected to break the record set in 1979 by Typhoon Tip. The lab is projecting a wind diameter of over 1,500 miles. They're _very_ excited."

"Cyclones don't form over deserts."

"This one does... sir."

"One _could_ say that something like that would qualify as supernatural, wouldn't you agree, Miss Teschmacher?"

"Weather patterns and the supernatural aren't my specialty, sir."

"No… of course not. Keep monitoring the situation and inform me of any developments that you may need a second opinion on. Thank you, Miss Teschmacher."

On the elevator ride down to the media center, surrounded by armed guards, Lex Luthor mentally prepared the speech he would deliver to the world. Trust that the League had destroyed in one brief moment of darkness would have to be restored... unfortunately. Miss Teschmacher had been right though, it _had_ been a moving speech, and one he _might_ have made.

But he would never have stopped with one country.

Wayne had been too focused on revenge. In blind rage, he had targeted Kahndaq for its involvement with the terrorist attacks of twenty years ago that had claimed the lives of Thomas and Martha Wayne. But Bruce had missed the true socio-engineering potential of his weapon.

He could get eight billion people down to a _much_ more manageable number.

And now the League would take the fall for it.

Exiting the elevator, he placed a call to General Johnson…

"General, this is President Luthor. Proceed with the seizure of Wayne Industries. Be sure to secure his estate as well. Inform me when Operation Whippet is complete."

Thirty seconds wasn't much time for makeup, but time _was_ of the essence. Now in front of the cameras, Luthor smiled and began as he had many times before...

"…Citizens of the world. The words you heard only moments ago from a man in Gotham were _not_ my own. There is no ultimatum, no demands of surrender that you will be presented with. America does _not_ have an ultimate weapon and we will _not_ hold the world hostage. The man who delivered these words was an imposter, fabricated by the League of Assassins.

What _is_ true is that the people of Kahndaq are dead. This, tragically, _has_ happened, but I am here to tell you unequivocally that this was _not_ an attach by the American government. Preliminary investigations have revealed that this was the largest sarin gas attack in history, launched by the most vicious terrorist organization ever known, the League of Assassins.

My imposter had stated that this League does not exist. I am here to confirm that they _do_. It was only through the deductions and actions of my new Secretary of Defense, Mr. Bruce Wayne, that I was able to free myself from the League's clutches. And in good faith and clear conscience, I repeat: America is _not_ your enemy, nor are we your master.

We must be your ally. The threat to world safety on this very day has never been greater. The League's goals have now been uncovered, and they are nothing less than the complete and utter destruction of mankind. I would now invite all nations to ferret out their shadow operatives of terror, including their leader… Ra's al Ghul. This man _must_ be stopped!

We are monitoring the situation in Kahndaq closely. We believe that the destruction of this nation was only the first step in the League's plan of the annihilation of mankind. There are events unfolding which seem impossible… almost _biblical_ in nature. As a nation under God, I pray that this is not true. But we must stand at the ready. The world must unite if these events come to pass.

Our warships are currently en route to Kahndaq. This is not an act of war, it is simply an act of defense. We must be ready for what is to come. I ask for the support of the world against those who would destroy us… _all_ of us. We must be united. We must be ready. We must be strong."

So _many_ things to do today… A meeting in the war room, calls to heads-of-state, seizing Wayne's assets. But most of all, he was looking forward to the interrogation of Talia al Ghul. What secrets would she reveal under the effects of the Hoffner truth serum? What secrets indeed…

A great man never avoided fate. He accepted the gifts it presented. And Lex Luthor had been truly gifted today…


	80. Chapter 80

**LXXX  
The Ninth Floor**

Being set up for Pentagon clearances and signing off on _far_ too many documents did allow Bruce Wayne to watch Luthor's entire speech on a wi-screen. But it is also wasted far too much time. And then still he had to be briefed on protocols for twenty full minutes beyond that.

The President was a master of distraction and control. Bruce knew he was being detained. In his speech to the world, Luthor _said_ all of the right things, but Luthor had always used words to distract the public-at-large from his actions. Bruce had realized some time ago that Luthor was a brilliant _but_ xenophobic megalomaniac… The trick was how to _think_ like one.

The megalomaniac would go after the engine of destruction.

As much as he had just denied it, the speech that the '_possessed'_ Luthor had given at Richard's funeral was the speech Luthor _wanted_ to give. He _would_ use the ultimate weapon to gain control of the world. So that meant Wayne Industries - as well as his estate - were being seized. He knew the president would stop at nothing to gain control of that weapon. Luthor would keep Bruce alive only long enough to make sure he was able to use it. And Bruce would make sure he never did.

The xenophobe would go after Talia and then Clark. Talia al Ghul had defiled Luthor like none before her. She had taken over a man who valued control above all else. He could only imagine the rage that burned in Lex's heart of evil for this woman. There were no illusions about Luthor's _true_ intentions regarding Talia. She was going to die... _painfully_.

Lucius Fox may be useful for information, but not a priority. Luthor would let him stew as a prisoner. As for Clark, the League had _almost_ destroyed him which meant that Luthor could as well. It wouldn't be as elaborate as a nuclear bomb this time. This time it would be much more direct and personal. Scenarios played through his mind…

"You're _very_ handsome, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce snapped out of his dark thoughts to view an attractive blonde woman standing beside him, _smiling_. She looked like a secretary from a high school fantasy but without the seduction and truly out of place in the Pentagon. He hadn't even _heard_ her approach.

"…Thank you, Miss… I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Eve Teschmacher. I'm the President's personal assistant." The young lady eagerly stuck out her hand - which Bruce took, smiling back at her. There was an honesty about her he found… _awkward_.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Teschmacher. I'm Bruce Wayne, the new Secretary of Defense."

"Oh yes, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Luthor told me. Congratulations. You must be _very_ excited!"

"…_Tenuous_ may be a better word. I'm supposed to meet the President in the war room. Would you happen to know where that is?"

"That's why I'm here, Mr. Wayne. I'm to take you there."

Surprising Wayne once more, she never let go of the handshake and slipped it into a friendly handhold to guide him. Hand-in-hand they strolled through the corridors of power, drawing peculiar looks from guards and bureaucrats alike, distracting them from their buzz of activity and meetings.

Entering the elevator, they were still holding hands as Miss Teschmacher punched the second floor below ground level and allowed a DNA scan as her finger rested on the illuminated button. She turned to Bruce again and smiled.

The Pentagon only had two floors below ground so the ride was quick. Once the doors opened, Eve continued gripping his hand and led him along a curving hallway. The people thinned out until they were the only two occupants until they finally came to a darkened alcove, where _different_ elevator doors awaited.

In front of these doors stood three guards who looked more like shock troopers than the other security he had seen. They barred all entry to the elevators.

"_Password_?" Bruce was surprised to hear a female voice from behind the shock armor.

"I'm Bruce Wayne, the new Secretary of Defense. I should have all my clearances…"

"Vuolsi così colà dove si puote." It was Eve Teschmacher who answered.

"_Floor number?_"

"Nine."

"_Proceed_."

Once inside the elevator, Bruce was surprised at how _dark_ it was. The Pentagon had been bright and busy, but their journey had led them to darkness. The lack of light allowed him to pursue his suspicions regarding his mysterious guide - who pressed the number 9 sending the elevator further into the bowels of the earth.

"Are you enjoying the Pentagon so far, Mr. Wayne?"

"It's deeper than what I thought it would be... I knew of only two floors below ground. Another seven is a surprise. What does _Vuolsi così colà dove si puote_ mean?"

"_So it is wanted there where the power lies_. It means it's OK with Mr. Luthor."

"I see… Have you worked with Lex Luthor long, Miss Teschmacher? I assume you're from LexCorp and were brought over _after_ the attack."

"You're very perceptive, Mr. Wayne! I've worked with Mr. Luthor all my life. I have a professional interest in him... _fascinating_ man."

"…You're very _fascinating_ yourself, Miss Teschmacher… What's the name of the perfume you're wearing? I'm not familiar with it."

"Clive Christian Number 1. Mr. Luthor chose it."

"Quite alluring... Do you find it _warm_ in here, Miss Teschmacher?"

"Not at all Mr. Wayne. The temperature is seventy degrees. It will get colder below. Here's our floor, watch your step."

As the elevator doors opened once more, Eve Teschmacher smiled the same broad smile and they began to walk towards the large set of metal doors at the end of the hallway.

It was even _darker_ outside of the elevator. Miss Teschmacher paused and tapped her ear.

"I'm sorry Mr. Wayne, the President would like us to wait for a moment outside before entering. He has to air out the room."

"I see." Wayne could hear powerful HVAC units operating from the room beyond the doors. Almost unconsciously, he peered above the doorway to see if the phrase '_Abandon all hope, ye who enter here_' was carved into the archway. Mercifully, it wasn't.

But even so, in his mind, a word began to repeat itself…

'_Raven. Raven. Raven, Raven._'

She was half-a-world away, farther apart than she'd ever been from him. He was a fool to have come here alone. This was Luthor's domain.

"We can enter now. After you, Mr. Wayne." The same smile.

The man from Gotham opened the doors to Hell...

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
50 FanFic points if anyone can guess what Eve Teschmacher _really_ is. Bruce has already figured it out. Answer will be revealed next chapter.


	81. Chapter 81

**LXXXI  
Twenty Questions**

Wayne pushed opened the massive doors to the war room and stood, frozen in sheer horror at the sight before him…

A conference of the dead.

A massive table filled the room, surrounded by twelve black leather chairs. The first three chairs were empty but the other nine chairs held America's five-star generals, all _deceased_.

Uniformed corpses slumped in various positions, sprawled across the table or on the floor. Their eyes were frozen wide in desperation, dead hands still clutching at starched collars and not a drop of blood had been spilled.

The room _was_ cold.

Eve Teschmacher took a firm hold of his shoulder and guided him in one of the empty chairs. She was as strong as he _feared_ she would be. The one-word mantra in his mind became a sudden scream…

'_Raven! Raven! Raven! Raven!_'

Worst of all was the author of this crime, still alive, sitting cross-legged on the tabletop, a centerpiece for dead generals... Lex Luthor. His hands were clasped together in front of his wicked eyes - watching every move Bruce made, fingertips tapping excitedly. He smiled at Bruce as he entered.

"I apologize for the delay. The air was a bit… _stale_."

"…You _used_ it. God help me, you _used_ it…" His worst fears were now realized, his world collapsing.

"Of course. Calculating the microwave burst sequence to initiate the gamma reaction was something any third-rate molecular physicist hacker could do. I'm sure you have your satellites codes locked down tight, but I do have my _own _satellites…

Although putting microwave transmitters into the ceiling was a pain in the ass . Your nanites are amazingly pervasive. They get into all the nooks and crannies, even _way_ down here. People _want_ them around. That's the brilliance of your strategy.

Oh, don't worry about this bunch. They're only here to provide ambiance.

Do you know the problem with Washington, Bruce?"

"…_You?_"

"I'm the _solution_, Wayne. No, the true problem with Washington is _politics_. What it took me minutes to figure out, they were going to take to committee... That would take months! They made a career of saying '_Yes Sir!_' and having independent thought beaten out of them by even bigger morons. They only had to answer one question..."

"What do you want, Luthor?"

"Very good, Mr. Wayne. That's the correct question."

Bruce felt a cold steel barrel touch the back of his head. Miss Teschmacher remained behind him, now armed and ready to shoot with a single command from Luthor, who explained…

"We're going to play a little game, Mr. Secretary. I'll ask a question… you answer. If the answer is wrong… you _die_. If you leave your chair, you _die_. But, if you answer correctly, you get to ask me a question. I'm sure you must have some questions for me."

"What happens if _you_ get the answer wrong?"

"I never get the answer wrong... It's _my_ game. But I will answer as truthfully as I can. Let's bring out our other two contestants, shall we?" Luthor turned to look behind him. "Gentlemen, please bring out the prisoners."

From the doorway at the back of the room, two hooded figures emerged, handled by soldiers and guided to the chairs on the left and right of Bruce. A full house.

Even with their faces concealed, Bruce knew immediately who they were… Lucius Fox and Talia al Ghul sat beside him, each with their own soldier pointing pistols at the back of their hooded heads. They were quiet but had regained consciousness.

"Let's begin shall we? I'll start with Mr. Fox. Answer carefully, sir… what can the League of Assassins do for you?"

"The League provides the life eternal, I will live _forever_!"

"Wrong! The correct answer is… _nothing_."

**BLAM!**

Bruce jumped in his chair as the brains and skull of Lucius Fox spread across the table in front of him. Bruce felt his heart try to beat its way out of his chest as his former CEO fell across the table top. Luthor was mad. Bruce had known it all along, but had no idea he had been this far gone. The madman was not letting them leave this room alive.

"Everyone should be clear on how the game is played now. Let's continue.

The next question is to you, Mr. Wayne… Choose your words _carefully_… remember - she's holding a gun to the back of your head. What is my personal assistant, Miss Teschmacher?"

Bruce swallowed and forced his brain to work.

"It's frightening how close you've come, Lex. It's _almost_ as if she were real."

"_Continue_, Mr. Wayne."

"She's a _robot_."

For as long as Wayne had been investing in nanotech, LexCorp had invested in _robotics_. Eve always smiled the _same_ smile, the lack of twitches, _very_ regular breathing and an incapacity to be embarrassed.

But it had been the elevator ride that had given him that final clue about Eve Teschmacher. She did not sweat and she did not wear deodorant. The elevator's darkness had emphasized his already keen sense of smell. She smelled of expensive perfume but nothing else.

"Well done, Mr. Wayne! You're the first person to even _suspect_! I knew the mind behind the engine of destruction was a worthy player… Please, ask me a question."

"…What made you to become xenophobic?"

"…That's not the question I was expecting... Shall I say I was just _born_ this way?

Or that the bitter realities of life have taught me to trust no one… A simple enough answer… But not the one you're looking for, is it Wayne? No, you want to get at the core of Luthor, to know your enemy and if he is reflected in yourself.

As the death of his parents drove a young Bruce Wayne to create the engine of mankind's destruction, by the sublime logic of misfortune, some tragedy in a young Lex Luthor's life _must_ have caused him to hate aliens.

Yes, there was a defining tragedy…

But as tragedy made Bruce Wayne build the weapon of revenge, it made Lex Luthor build the man. A man with no limitations, free from the burdens of morality.

That's the difference between us, Wayne. We are both men of extreme intellect, but yours is swayed by compassion - after you could no longer afford the high price of hate.

Compassion is _weakness_, Mr. Wayne… Remember that. I am a man who is ruled by intellect alone.

Why am I afraid of aliens? Let me tell you about my father...

You see, like you, I lost my father when I was young, thirteen in fact. He was a scientist, very smart, convinced of the existence of extraterrestrial life. A man consumed by his passion.

He even built his own observation tower on our property, aimed it at the stars - where I spent many nights, lost in bright eyed wonder at this search for alien intelligence in the inky blackness.

Actually, Lois Lane reminded me of my father. They would have been great friends… And as she had opened her arms to invite oblivion to our shores, so too had my father broadcast his own doom into space.

His call was answered. Aliens came to Earth. The greatest accomplishment of his life, shared with his son.

A son who witnessed things from the stars he could _never_ describe... tear his father apart without hesitation or mercy. Aliens, demons, monsters I can not say, only that even their appearance filled me with terror. Their actions even more so.

I ran for my life, afraid to this day of what lies just beyond the dark recesses of space.

That single event opened my eyes and has guided my life. It is the true core of Luthor. What you call xenophobia is actually an understanding of our position in the Universe… Annoyances, nothing more.

And that is where humanity fails, Mr. Wayne... Death does not care about our point of view or beliefs or if we are _good_... It only cares if we shoot first... And that is why I fear aliens.

And now Miss al Ghul, we come to you..."

"What did you inject me with?!" The voice from beneath the hood was demanding.

"_Rules_, my dear... I ask first. The ability to push out another's consciousness, can anyone learn this trick?"

"No. Now answer my question, Luthor!"

"Hoffner truth serum."

"What does it do?!"

"I'm sorry, we have three more questions to go before I get back to you. Now Mr. Wayne, your turn once again..." Lex pulled a 9mm handgun from behind him - admiring it lovingly.

"Amazing really, even for two old war mongers like us, steeped in the industry of death, there were always be a place in my heart for guns… Now Mr. Wayne, when will your pretty wife be joining us?"

"As soon as Scott Free is safe. Hopefully _very_ soon."

"I see. How fortuitous that she makes a cloud of smoke before she appears. Certainly enough time for a man – or his robot - to aim and pull a trigger... Not an _informative_ answer. Your next one will have to be better. Now ask a question."

"...How will you defeat Trigon if Raven is dead?"

"Actions have consequences, is that what you hope to impart?… I'm still not convinced such a _thing_ exists but even if it did, I _will_ find a way. Let's get some outside advice though, shall we? We do happen to have an expert among us… Miss al Ghul, has the League truly summoned a demon called Trigon?"

"_Yes_." Talia sounded pleased to provide this answer. If Luthor did not believe in Trigon, he was as good as dead. "Does Hoffner truth serum kill its victim?"

"Yes, it does." Luthor sounded _equally_ pleased to provide his reply. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask a tough question now Mr. Wayne... and I will _not_ accept vague generalities …What is Trigon?"

Wayne drew a deep breath.

"Trigon is the physical manifestation of negative energy. The Azarathians were the first to learn how to cast out their negative emotions - exiling them beyond the Great Door of Azarath. This negative energy accumulated into an alien life who was able to rip more negative energy from incorporeal souls to feed his ever-growing lust for power. With the genocide of Kahndaq, it is reasonable to assume he has consumed over ten million souls to balance the entry onto our planet across the soul barrier.

Trigon is a demon who has destroyed various worlds and now leads a demon army onto the lands of Earth. He has power beyond measure, is one thousand years old and can project his influence across dimensions to bend people to his evil will. He is the Great Destroyer and will destroy all humanity in very short order while you play twenty questions."

"Impressive. You seem to know a lot about this Trigon…"

"He's my father-in-law."

"Well, that _is_ a game changer… I must reconsider. A question for Talia then…" Bruce cut him off quickly.

"I get a question first, Luthor."

"Fine... Ask away." The bald man sighed.

"How do your robots know when to shoot us?"

When Lucius had been murdered, there had been no _obvious_ sign from Luthor, no hand motion or wink. It was a life-or-death final roll of the dice as Bruce planted his feet firmly on the floor, straightened his back and raised himself to his full height, trying to stare eye-to-eye with Luthor - who still sat on the table in front of him, grinning.

"In a game where... _incorrect_ answers are fatal Mr. Wayne, you ask the only question that will get you killed - but I am obliged to answer. Surely you _must_ have guessed that it was a verbal cue. A man of your skills of detection would have noticed a hand motion, a wink, even a certain look. So it was words. When I say words, perhaps the word _nothing_…"

Luthor smiled as Bruce suddenly flinched, cringing…

"…That was unkind, I admit. But I may say _nothing_ inadvertently and then our little game comes to a tragic halt. So it's not a simple word. No, it's a two-part command that depends on whom I'm talking to. It begins when I say the word _Wrong_… And ends very tragically when I finish my next _sent_…"

It was all Bruce needed to hear.

With the reflexes of an agitated cobra, Wayne dropped down in his leather chair as he simultaneously pushed up on Eve Teschmacher's robotic right arm with all the force his two hands could give him. Please God, he only needed to raise the arm holding the gun a few inches to achieve the angle he needed...

"…_ence_." Before the president could stop his last consonant, Luthor realized too late what Bruce had wagered to beat him at his own game.

**BLAM!**

From the seat of his chair, Wayne saw where the bullet struck and the devastating effect.

The greatest and most corrupt mind of their generation instantly sprayed across the room behind them… all from a small entry wound which decorated the center of Luthor's forehead, eerily similar to a red third eye. Light shone through the hole from where the back of his head had been.

When the two surrounding soldier robots turned towards him, Wayne dove below the table. He buried his head beneath his suit jacket, hoping his nanotextiles would bear the brunt of the hallow points, even if it would feel like getting hit multiple times with a hammer…

Blam, blam, blam, blam...

But they weren't firing at _him_… Carefully, Wayne peered around at the legs of the robots to gather that the two male robots had emptied their clips into Eve Teschmacher. Of course! She was the one who had fired the gun! And bless her electronic heart if she wasn't now defending herself by firing back at them.

Bruce quickly shifted over and pulled on Talia's legs as she slid down the leather chair underneath the large table.

"Who's _shooting_?!" She had found Bruce through the darkness of her hood. Bruce retrieved his _very_ illegal universal key from his suit pocket and undid her handcuffs. She began to remove her hood.

"Luthor's dead. The robots are firing on one another… If you try that _beloved_ thing, I'm going to pop you in the nose."

"I will not."

Talia removed the black hood revealing the mistreated beauty beneath. Tears wet her eyes, mascara running. She suddenly embraced him, hiding the fear in almond eyes.

"I don't know how long I have, Wayne… Do you truly believe Trigon will destroy _all_ of humanity, even the League?"

"Yes, he will."

"I do not fear death, but I do not want to die here… Already I can feel my body succumbing to sleep…"

"Come on!"

As the shooting finished, Bruce lowered himself as the woman held onto his back. He crawled on all fours, past dead generals, from under the table. The robots were now strangling one another – for all the _good_ it would do. They had obviously been programmed to defend themselves from attacks and to destroy anyone who attacked Luthor - by _whatever_ means necessary. Conflict resolution was never Luthor's strong point.

Eve looked to be in a state of terrible repair, her circuitry exposed through various bullet wounds, but still she struggled against her two assailants, to bravely preserve the semblance of life LexCorp had given her. As she spotted Bruce, she flashed that same smile, parts of her lips missing where the hallow points had hit.

'_Your very handsome, Mr. Wayne_' echoed in his thoughts as he raised Talia. He smiled back at the machine. Good Bye Miss Teschmacher, you were the best thing Lex Luthor ever made.

With Talia now slung over his shoulder, Bruce Wayne ran from the bowels of Hell.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Bruce Wayne is not a killer, but when faced with a life-or-death situation with no way out, he will (like most people) defend himself.  
And _where_ is Raven?...


	82. Chapter 82

**LXXXII  
President Wayne**

Bruce's heart lurched to a stop as he saw the elevator doors begin to open with only ten feet to go. Carrying an incapacitated Talia over his shoulder meant he could _not_ run. Even if he dropped her, where would he go? As if he had fallen through thin ice, a cold numbness suddenly spread over him – as he watched the three shock troopers emerge from the elevator, deadly weapons held ready.

There was _nowhere_ to run.

He did the only thing he could – swing Talia towards the wall and position himself in front of her. He had no doubt these troopers were more LexCorp robots, stone cold killers able to dispatch lives without hesitation. He had been caught wide open... His thoughts were again of Raven.

But the guards ran _past_ him. The female that had spoken earlier when they had first used the elevator issued a command on her way past.

"Clear the area and wait for the authorities."

Before the elevator doors closed, Bruce had himself and Talia inside, frantically pushing the number 2 button, watching the three shock troopers make their way to the end of the hall.

With the arrival of these new, heavily-armed LexCorp robots, he knew the Miss Teschmacher machine had seconds of functionality left. After that _threat_ was neutralized, he could only guess what Lex's machines would do, or how capable they were of analytical thought regarding shared video memory. He had no intention of sticking around to find out.

As the elevator doors closed, Bruce heard the thunder of high-powered automatics from the war room and knew what had been Miss Teschmacher was no more. Beside him, Talia began gasping for breath, even though he had carried her from the mad king's lair.

"Talia, I'll find the antidote. Lex _always_ has an antidote."

"Why would you save me?... You could have left me behind…"

"I don't want to see you die. I feel… I _know_ you from somewhere. But we've never met."

"I feel it too." Slumped against the corner of the elevator, she reached out to take a hold of his hand. "Perhaps, in another life we were lovers… I would _like_ that, Bruce Wayne."

Bruce looked at her long, dark hair, and powerful, sad eyes. In another life… yes, he would have liked that too. But in this lifetime, his love and life belonged to Raven. His mind once again raced across scenarios where his wife could be. This was _far_ too long. Something had gone terribly wrong... He felt it in his gut.

The elevator doors opened to bring him back to the task at hand. He was picking up a paling Talia al Ghul from the elevator floor and when he realized that for the second time in two days, the president had been killed… and who the _new_ president was, if the actions of a madman were to be believed.

In hindsight, it became apparent that Luthor had simply lured Wayne to the Pentagon to destroy him and gain knowledge of his weapon. He had _almost_ succeeded on both counts. It had been a painful lesson for Wayne, to let himself fall for the political trappings of a mad sociopath, but he could now focus on his original purpose – the war against Trigon.

Bruce Wayne drew curious looks carrying Talia al Ghul over his shoulder as he once again walked along the upper levels of the Pentagon. A few people even stopped to ask him if he needed assistance – until they saw the stern look in his eye. Wayne went to the only person he knew in this labyrinth of bureaucracy.

"Mr. Okama…" Wayne carefully placed Talia on a chair. "We have a _situation_."

"We actually have many situations, Mr. Secretary. But what can I do to assist yours?"

"What's your position here?"

"I am the Director of the Pentagon Force Protection Agency. I also handle all Pentagon security."

"Excellent. Are you currently, or have you _ever_ been affiliated with LexCorp?"

"No, sir."

"That's the best news I've heard all day. Do you have video of the war room or the ninth floor?"

"I'm afraid only President Luthor may access that… due to security reasons."

"Unfortunately, that's the situation… President Luthor is dead."

"Oh.. _How_?"

"One of the robots he has at the Pentagon shot him... Miss Teschmacher. I need to know the number of LexCorp employees he brought over to the Pentagon."

"Miss Teschmacher was a _robot_? Damn, I even DNA'd her…"

"How many, Mr. Okama?"

"Five… Miss Teschmacher, three guards for the elevator and Dr. Georgia Sivana."

"I'll need to see Dr. Georgia Sivana _immediately_. Also, please assemble remaining generals in the Pentagon into a briefing room."

"Yes, sir."

Within moments, two members of the Pentagon Force Protection Agency had escorted Dr. Georgia Sivana into the office of Director Okama. Wayne concluded immediately that she wasn't a robot… Luthor would have never built something that _unattractive_. There was something almost worm-like about her appearance. Her mousy brown hair, large spectacles and protruding buck teeth did nothing to hide the shiftiness in her nervous, beady eyes.

"Dr. Sivana, I'm Bruce Wayne. Lex Luthor named me the Secretary of Defense. I'm afraid I have some bad news… the President is dead."

"What?! _You_… You did it!" She screamed at Wayne… who was beginning to question this strange woman's sanity.

"No, Luthor did it. We need the antidote for the Hoffner Truth Serum."

"_Never_! You can all die alongside Luthor for all I care. You killed him and now you're going to kill me!"

"We will not hurt you, Doctor. This is an emergency…"

Georgia Sivana slipped from her escorts and grasped the chin of Talia al Ghul, who was slipping into unconsciousness, bringing her cruel face closer to the beleaguered woman, serpentine eyes glaring behind the thick glass of her spectacles.

"It's for this cow, isn't it? It's because she's _pretty_, that's why you want to save her. Luthor was able to see _past_ looks, Wayne. To see the _true_ measure of the woman. If you think I would ever betray him…"

Georgia Sivana stopped when she saw Talia al Ghul's eyes snap open. For a moment, the two women stared eerily at one another- _transfixed_ - the standoff suddenly broken by a single word…

"_Beloved_."

Talia slumped back into the chair while Dr. Sivana calmly stood straight up, and looked over at Bruce, smiling.

"…You have done too much already for me, Bruce Wayne. A better friend than I deserve. I will work on saving the body before you. You must rally the world against Trigon."

The hand of Dr. Georgia Sivana gently reached across to caress Bruce Wayne's cheek, a graciously look decorating her face.

"Thank you."

"In another life, Talia…"

"In another life, Detective. Adieu."

Dr. Georgia Sivana, the new recipient of Talia's consciousness, then left the office. Director Okama, who had stood dumbfounded for the last thirty seconds, finally found his voice while the two guards also stared bewildered.

"...What just happened here?"

"It's a long story, Director. Would you two gentlemen be so kind to arrange for this lady to be taken to the infirmary? Shall we address the remaining generals, Mr. Okama?"

"… Wouldn't miss it for the world, Mr. President."

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
It makes perfect sense that Georgia Sivana would be attracted to diabolical, bald-headed men - given who her father is.

And _ewww_….


	83. Chapter 83

**LXXXIII  
All The King's Horses**

"How many generals are left in the building, Mr. Okama?" asked Bruce of the Director of the Pentagon Force Protection Agency as they made their way to the briefing room.

"Sixty-two. Did you meet the nine old men downstairs?"

"I'm afraid they were dead by the time I arrived."

"Damn... Then that would make… fifty-three remaining on site. And six hundred thirteen still off site. They were good men, what _happened_ down there, Wayne?"

"Brilliance burned away any semblance of morality. Lex Luthor was a sociopath… He had a plan to rule the world… and Luthor's redesign had _far_ fewer people. The speech he gave in Gotham this morning was probably closer to the _true_ Luthor than anyone ever knew."

"So what now, Mr. Wayne? There will be some that will declare your presidency _unconstitutional_. Others won't even recognize your authority. You're not even an elected official."

"True…"

A wi-screen alert suddenly appeared before Bruce. Since the morning, he had placed his call-notifications on level-one-permissions-only. That meant there were only five people in the world who could call him now. Of the five, two were dead...he was unable to remove Richard from his settings just yet, and Lucius had been murdered only moments before in an explosion of cranium.

The third could instantly appear before him anytime she wanted (and he wished the hell she _would_). Even so, he would never remove Raven from the list, even if she had never operated a wi-screen in her life.

That meant it could only be Barbara or Alfred and he would be _overjoyed_ to talk to either right now. The image of Alfred appeared in the small digital screen floating in mid air before him.

"I'm sorry Director, I really need to take this… _Accept_."

"Master Bruce! I'm so _thankful_ you answered. I'm afraid we have quite a situation at the house, sir. There is a General Johnson who says that if you do not provide access to the sub-levels, he will bring in a demolitions team! I'm afraid the entire estate is under siege by the army…"

"Is he with you, Alfred?"

"Yes sir, one moment..."

The dour face of General Johnson replaced Alfred's in the wi-screen.

"Wayne! I've been trying to get a hold of you for thirty minutes. Look, we can do this hard way or the easy way. I have orders from the president to seize _all_ Wayne Industry assets. Including the ones here."

"General, I'm afraid there's been some late-breaking developments. President Luthor is dead. Have you received the memo about the _newly _appointed Secretary of Defense…"

"What in Sam Hell is going on Wayne?! That makes two presidents dead in two days… So Luthor really _did_ declare you as the Secretary of Defense?"

"Made me swear an Oath of Office and everything. With Luthor declaring the War Powers Act yesterday, I suppose that makes it legal."

"I suppose it does… Mr. President."

"Then get your butt out of my house and back to the Pentagon, Tyrexius."

"Who the hell told you?... Never mind. We're on our way. Don't hold this against me, Bruce. I'm putting your butler back on."

A flustered Alfred came back into view.

"Is it true, sir? Lex Luthor is dead? How did it happen?"

"We played a life-or-death game of twenty questions… he answered _wrong_. Where is Raven?"

"Mrs. Wayne left with the man who crashed through the roof, her mother, and Miss Gordon shortly after she took your party to the Pentagon, Master Bruce… to assist Mr. Free in Kahndaq. I had assumed she was now with you."

"No. Call me immediately if you hear from her."

"Of course, sir."

The call ended. Alfred watched the military begin to pack up and leave the Wayne Estate – allowing him to finally breath a _huge_ sigh of relief. Fortunately, they had seemed more concerned with getting into Master Bruce's private sub-levels than ransacking the mansion but had still left an incredible mess.

Once the military left the estate, Alfred calmly opened a wi-screen and logged into his after-hours trading account. He used every dime he owned and every ounce of borrowed leverage he could lay his hands on to make the business transaction of his life…

* * *

"Welcome back to American Business Today, I'm your host Charles Higgensworth. The story of the morning continues to be _precipitous_ decline of the Wayne Industries share price. Since the news of the American army occupying Wayne Industries in Gotham broke this morning, this stock has fallen off a cliff! Everyone is selling for whatever they can get and there seems to be no takers.

Moments ago, we witnessed the share price free-fall through its original IPO price. It was thirty years ago when Martha Wayne re-branded her father's privately-owned defense corporation into a publicly traded entity. Currently, the stock has seen a 37,000% decline from where it opened Friday morning setting the NYSE record for dollar decline in one day.

It had fallen twenty-two percent late yesterday on unsubstantiated rumors that President Luthor would seize the company's assets in defense of the nation as part of his War Power Act declaration. With the army _invasion_ of the Wayne Industries tower this morning, that rumor would now seem to be confirmed. Currently, the share price is forty cents and _still_ dropping.

The only question now seems to be whether Wayne Communications will be allowed to continue operating as a corporate entity or whether that will be seized as well. It seems like share holders are hedging their bets and dumping that stock as well, but not to the extent of Wayne Industries. In a surprise turn of events, we learned moments ago that the president's office had instructed all exchanges _not_ to halt trading of Wayne stock.

Well that's _interesting_… It looks like the stock has leveled at thirty-two cents. There's a _massive_ buy on the table! It could have been an algorithm designed for flash crashes that programmers forgot about or else someone taking an _enormous_ risk on a ninety-million share purchase of Wayne Industry stock! That purchase effectively _buys_ majority ownership of the company… if there's even a Wayne Industries left by the end of the day.

Hold on… We have news… The army has been spotted _leaving_ Wayne Estate. It could be they got what they came for, or perhaps Bruce Wayne has been able to broker a deal with President Luthor. Nothing has been confirmed yet… And now we have news that the command has been given for all forces to exit Wayne Tower #1 and return to the Pentagon.

We may have just witnessed the trade of a lifetime or maybe not. Until we hear from the president's office, it's all speculation at this point, but it may be that the rumors of Wayne Industries untimely demise have been exaggerated."

* * *

At the Pentagon, Bruce Wayne entered the briefing room with the eyes of all fifty-three generals anxiously upon them. The tension in the room was so palpable that even the act of opening the door seemed to allow a rush of air escape into the hallway beyond. One of the generals spoke up as they entered…

"Listen Okama, you may be the Director of the Pentagon Force Protection Agency, but that doesn't give you the right to corral us like this when the nation is in a state of emergency. And where is General Carmine, General Moldoff and the others?"

"Ladies and Gentlemen… I would like to introduce you to your new commander. I assume you've all gotten the announcement of Mr. Wayne's appointment by now. The floor is yours, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Okama... These past two days have seen extraordinary events take place, the likes of which we have never seen. An American president has enacted the War Powers provision declaring martial law on a population of three hundred and eighty-nine million citizens. This morning, in one brief instant, eleven million innocent people were murdered.

For the first time in fifty-eight years, an American president was assassinated yesterday. For the first time in over two hundred years, the White House was also destroyed. And for the first time in our proud history, America has lost two serving presidents in two days.

Lex Luthor is dead.

After murdering all nine five-star generals as a science experiment, killing my former CEO Lucius Fox and placing the lives of myself and Talia al Ghul in extreme jeopardy, Lex Luthor received a bullet meant for myself from one of his LexCorp robots…"

"Hold on _Wayne_…" It was the same General again. "Are you trying to tell us there are _robots_ wandering around the Pentagon?"

"Yes General. It's not common knowledge, but LexCorp has been building robots almost indistinguishable from humans for the past two years. Okama, I would suggest that you arm some of your men with EMP-cannons to tackle the three remaining robots - who I hope are still on the lower levels.

I know you are all aware that Mr. Luthor used his executive power to appoint me to the position of Secretary of Defense. With his untimely demise and line of succession, that makes me the acting president. This is not a position I intend to hold for long before elections are called. And I'm afraid our true enemy isn't so easy as the League of Assassins any longer…

I hope to God I'm wrong, but I have it on good authority that Satan _himself_ will be touching down upon the Earth shortly… If I had to guess I would say it will be in Kahndaq, where eleven million souls were sacrificed an hour ago to allow his entrance. I'm not sure how to beat the devil, but I assure you, I'm going to do my _damned_ best and _all_ of you are going to help me."

"There are reports of a large, stationary cyclone over Kahndaq." It was one of the female generals this time.

"I'm going to bring up some screens to see if we can gather the latest intel," continued Wayne.

He made large wi-screens that the generals could view and tapped into the Wayne Communications satellites. There was indeed an enormous cyclone over the desert country of Kahndaq where no giant, black, weather disturbance had a right to be. The storm was so severe, it effectively blocked all attempts at surveillance as to what lie below.

There were however various security cameras in the dead country he could hack into, including at his own facility. It was on one of these cameras that they first saw _it_… a monstrous thing of tentacle, teeth and wing. And there were _more_ than one of these horrors… Much more. There was a legion of unworldly _things_ covering the landscape itself, an ocean of black terror undulating atop the desert sands.

A number of generals stared wide-eyed at the screens - the same question forming on their lips while blood fell from their complexions to nervous hearts. President Bruce Wayne answered the question before it could be given sound.

"They're demons... Ladies and Gentlemen, I regret to inform you that the world is being invaded by the forces of Hell…"

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
Bruce knows that Trigon isn't _really_ Satan. He's framing the situation in terms the public can relate to, without having to explain about Azarath. Trigon is very close in appearance and deed to Christianity's version of the Devil.

I will let the reader deduce which butler just added to his stock position to become a 73% majority owner of Wayne Industries…


	84. Chapter 84

**LXXXIV  
Eden Lost**

As Raven teleported back at the beautiful estate she had learned to call home, a feeling of concern for Bruce made her stomach sink even as their parting kiss still tingled upon her lips. She had left him alone with a man she could _never_ trust, a man who could harm him…or _worse_. She hated to be apart from her husband in the presence of such evil, but Scott Free's need was greater.

Before her appeared Clark, Barbara, her mother Arella and Alfred...who had already began cleaning debris from the floor where Clark had burst in through the ceiling. Raven grinned when she caught sight of the old gentleman's look of disdain. Turning to the cause of the mess, Raven realized she had no idea where Scott Free even _was_.

"Where is Scott located, Clark?"

"Near an old temple in Kahndaq. If you can get us close, I can fly us the rest of the way. Are you ready, Mrs. Wayne?"

"I'd like to go as well..." Raven was surprised to hear Barbara Gordon.

"I'm sorry Miss Gordon, it would not be safe." Clark answered with the voice of manly confidence and fatherly concern.

"I would prefer if she came with us, Clark." She had _surprised_ herself with that... Raven Wayne was beginning to see Barbara Gordon as a friend, no longer a rival.

"I may not be able to protect all of you."

"…You won't have to." Raven was again surprised to hear her mother speak. For all her Azarathian philosophy, Arella _was_ a force of magic in times of need.

"Shall we go then?" Raven instinctively raised her jacket, which felt strange after wearing a cloak for all of her life. Earth clothes were still foreign to her.

"If it's all the same to you, Mrs. Wayne, I would prefer to stay. There are some contractors I would like to call." Alfred was looking up at the hole through the estate's roof, his hand covering his eyes against the sunlight which shone through.

Raven lowered her jacket and stepped over to the old man. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she had to levitate six inches to kiss the tall gentleman on his forehead.

"Be careful, dear friend. There may be danger even here," she whispered.

"And to you, mistress. Godspeed."

"OK everyone, here we go." Raven once again raised her jacket flaps as the familiar black smoke engulfed the four travelers as they disappeared into its mists and across dimensions.

They had left the autumn cool of Gotham city for the stinking heat of Kahndaq. Any nose could detect diesel fumes while a keen nose could detect the odor of the sun-warmed dead. Above them, dark swirling clouds gave the land an ominous feel as the sun began to set.

Along her dimensional shift, Raven had managed to key-in on the _emotions_ of one of the mother boxes, using its frequency to land next to Scott and Barda Free.

She witnessed for herself that the situation was _indeed_ dire. Even with Barda's mother box covering the hole in his chest, Raven could see that the new god had been mortally wounded. It was Clark who first spoke to Barda, the warrior woman who had remained by the side of her exposed husband - his Mister Miracle outfit and mother box now dust in the desert wind.

"How is he, Barda?"

"…_Dying_. The mother box's power is fading, even with this foul-smelling noise-maker." She gestured at the portable generator, still belching diesel fumes. "He needs a hospital now!"

"_Barda_…" Clark seemed _crushed_ to have to ask the following question… "would a hospital even be _able_ to help him? Can a doctor's scalpel cut him? Will human blood be able to be transfused into his veins? I ask this because I know there's no hospital on Earth that could ever do that for me…"

"You want me to leave him here to _die_! We don't need you anymore Clark, you can go!" The tears were streaming down Barda's eyes and there was an accusation in her voice.

"_Please_… if I may, I know something of the ancient healing arts." Arella moved over to Barda to place her hand on the tall woman's shoulder, kind indigo eyes gazing into warrior blue.

"I hope you know them _all,_ priestess. Save him… please."

Arella gently placed her hands on Scott Free and began chanting incantations that hadn't been heard on Earth for over a thousand years. The air around her began to spin, matching the increasing winds of the gathering storm above as her hands emitted pure white light. She continued while the other four prayed silently for Scott Free…

Finally, after many agonizing minutes, Arella fell backwards… exhausted.

"By the will of Azar…he is no _ordinary_ man… I have done all I am capable of…"

"Will he live?!" Barda was inspecting the wound critically when a stranger answered her…

"No my dear, he will die... I'm afraid _all_ of you will die."

Barbara, Clark, Barda, Raven and even a listless Arella turned to see a man dressed in long, red silken robes - flowing in the warm winds framed by the setting sun, approach. It was the stranger who had provided the sinister answer while their attention had been entirely focused on Scott… No one had even noticed this thinly-bearded stranger approach their group across the desert.

"_Ra's_…"

Raven did not know this man, but _someone_ in her did. They had used her mouth to say the word. She was surprised when she realized it was Azar _herself_ that had come to the surface of her consciousness… the mother of Azarath knew this stranger _well_.

"You recognize me, princess of the angel?" Ra's al Ghul beheld Raven carefully.

"This child does not know you, Ra's… But the soul of your one true love… the wife who forsake you, with a belly full-of-child to pursue her girlish dreams... this one _does_."

"_Zara_… You have returned to bear witness to your crimes against duty and love." Ra's spoke with the confidence of a man who heralded an army, an army he had apparently left behind.

"I have wronged you, I can _never_ deny this… But I beg of you Ra's, if there is _any_ love left in your heart, please do not do this! Do not bring the great ravager onto the land of our home! Do not destroy this world as Azarath itself was destroyed!"

"There _is_ love in my heart, Zara… but not forgiveness… We tasted of the fruits of the tree of life _and_ the tree of knowledge… yet you would try to spit out the taste to absolve humanity of its sins. You are _not_ forgiven. The coming of the Red Angel will absolve this world of its sins the only way it can be done. You took my kingdom to build your Eden, I will use what you left behind to make mine."

"We don't have time for _this_!" It was Barda who suddenly shouted at the stranger, standing at her full, threatening seven feet.

"None of you have time."

To prove Ra's statement, thunder clapped above them as they suddenly heard a deep, ominous laughing echoing across the sky above. The land itself vibrated with each evil chortle, all hope dashed before its wake. The center of the cyclone above seemed to have torn a rift into space beyond the sky.

"Ah, _guys_…" interrupted Barbara, "there's _something_ coming through the hole..." There was _true_ fear in her voice as she craned her head to the heavens.

It was Clark who took action, breaking the stalemate. In the blink of eye, he had effortlessly hoisted Ra's al Ghul off his feet with one hand, the other ready to put a hole through the man's face if he didn't get the answer he wanted.

"Close it, Ra's… _NOW_!"

There was no fear in the Arabian to the Kryptonian's threat, only a profound sense of joy.

"You will is strong, man from the stars… but not _that_ strong."

It happened before Raven could intercede... Talia was a rank amateur compared to the power her father. As Azar and her people had traveled the path of spiritual mysticism for a thousand years, so too had their abandoned lord walked the path of the mystic… a path to the bowels of Hell and back. He was stronger than even Azar herself dreamed possible.

Even so, given time, she was _certain_ she could force Ra's spirit out of Clark's body… But Ra's had been correct, they had no time. The Nebu were now landing upon the sands around them, greedy sets of insect eyes turning towards them while tentacles and teeth hungered for soul-laden flesh.

They had to _leave_.

Raven reached out to gather Clark's spirit into herself (which felt like being sunburned on the _inside_) and teleported herself, her mother, Barbara, Scott and Barda across dimensions once again as Nebu began to streak hungrily across the desert towards them. The discarded body of Ra's al Ghul she left behind.

…The maddening laughter booming in the skies continued.


	85. Chapter 85

**LXXXV  
The Fields of Elysium**

Barbara Gordon hit the ground _hard_.

She had no idea where they had suddenly appeared. The last thing she remembered was Raven's black smoke across the desert sands as things to horrible to describe were going to eat her and then a red _blur_ before she found herself roughly deposited, rolling along a grassy field. Slowly, she pulled herself to her feet, winced a little and looked around.

Raven was there… but she had landed harder. Barbara wasn't sure if Raven had passed out during teleporting or from the shock of impact. Arella was also pulling herself from the ground and Barda had managed to cradle Scott in her arms and land perfectly on her feet, unharmed.

"By the fires of Apokolips girl, are you _trying_ to kill him?!" Barda's question did not find an answer… not one that Raven could provide currently. Barda carefully laid Scott down and tended to him.

Barbara pulled red hair away from her eyes and continued to survey the landscape… It was like nothing she had ever seen, closer to a dream than reality. Fields of long green grass rippled in a gentle breeze – like waves along a jade ocean. The sun seemed _brighter_, everything was _so_ clear. The summer air smelled of fragrant flowers, too numerous to identify with the hint of the sea beyond the hills.

And there were no _shadows_. It was warm - but not hot. A perfect sort of day to walk towards the rolling hills in the distance. The landing had been rough, but Raven had certainly picked a good destination, _wherever_ it was…

"Is this heaven?..." It was a strange thought that Barbara had asked before she thought about it.

"This is _Elysium_, child."

Barbara stared at the old woman who had answered, standing beside Raven... She hadn't been there a second ago… _Where_?... and then Barbara realized... She wasn't a _person_ at all. She was a spirit. This land had no shadows, but it did have shades.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am… but who are you?"

"I am Azar, High Priestess of Azarath… Or rather, I _was_... It was I who spoke to Ra's only a moment ago through the voice of Raven. She carries the souls and hope of Azarath within her so we may balance the evil of the great ravager. We were very lucky to escape just now."

"From those demons?"

"No child, from Trigon. He was _waiting_ for us. Did you not see his hand reach out to crush us in his wicked grasp?"

"I only saw a blur of red."

"That was the hand of Trigon, child. He sought to crush us as a man swats a mosquito. It was Raven who protected all of us and provided our narrow escape… Arella, your daughter will require your arts…. But first, let me draw out the unwanted distraction from inside of her. He and I must have _words_."

Barbara watched as the shade of Azar pulled out the very familiar figure from Raven's prone body… It was Clark… glowing _white_. If Azar were a shade, Clark was retina-burn.

"Calm down, young one. Burning your way out of Raven will not help anyone. She saved you, after all." Azar was trying to calm the Kryptonian.

"I have to get back! Take me there. You don't realize how dangerous he is!"

"I know _perfectly_ well how dangerous he is. I also know you're no match for Ra's al Ghul. Your spirit is weak, child."

"You don't understand what I can _do_."

"It is you who does not understand what _Trigon_ can do. If his servant can cast your spirit aside, Trigon will devour your eternal soul as simple nourishment."

"He must be stopped!"

"He must… But he will not be overcome with force. Do you understand?"

The burning image of Clark dulled in luminosity. This was clearly something he did _not_ understand. Barbara turned to see Arella cradling her daughter's head, working her healing magic on Raven while Barda's obvious anxiety had grown… Her fighting spirit had also dulled as desperation drew heavy lines upon her brow.

"The power of the mother box is fading… When it goes… he _goes_."

"Barda, everyone fears the worst but let's plan for success. Let's say Raven wakes up quickly. Where can we take Scott so he can be saved?" Barbara Gordon didn't have the strength to move mountains or the ability to travel the universe like Raven… but she could _reason_. She could plan. And they _needed_ a plan…

"Clark was right… He _isn't_ human. A hospital of your world may not be able to save him. His injuries are severe, without the mother box and the priestess, he would surely be dead by now."

"Where do mother boxes come from? This is a technology I've never seen."

"We are of the race of the New Gods. As the first-born son of Izaya, the Highfather, Scott is the Prince of his home world, New Genesis... A place much like this realm, but its inhabitants are gods, not spirits. I am a warrior of Apokolips, the dark twin of New Genesis, ruled by the omnipotent tyrant Darkseid.

Both worlds have technology beyond your mortal reckoning, but the mother box is surely one of our greatest accomplishments, created by Scott's mentor, the revolutionary scientist Himon."

"Could Himon help, Scott?"

"Certainly, if he were still alive… or able… or sane. It is good _not_ to take things for granted on Apokolips."

"How about his father, Izaya?"

"The Highfather… beyond a _doubt_… But this would mean war between the worlds of New Genesis and Apokolips. There is a sacred _pact_… sealed in power so arcane so as to become magic. Should Scott Free return to his home world, the pact is broken and our worlds will be at war - which would destroy us both. For all my love, I can not burden the responsibility for a war of the gods. Scott would never forgive me, _even_ if his life was saved."

"Can _you_ go to New Genesis?"

"Of course… But what could I do?"

"Talk to Izaya. Surely a father does not want to see his son die…"

"Then you know nothing of Darkseid. But Izaya _is_ merciful, I have heard these things. Perhaps… But to travel to the Highfather I would need to boom tube to New Genesis, and that would _kill_ Scott."

"Could Raven take you?"

"Her mystical travel seems _similar_ to the matter threshold used by the boom tube. Perhaps…"

"If she _were_ to do this, could she plead her case for allies against Trigon?"

"The new gods are locked in an age-old struggle where neither dare raise a finger, but this fiend Trigon would surely be considered a threat against existence itself! If my Scott can be saved, I will declare them cowards to the _last_ not to rally against such a monster."

"Thank you, Barda… Who is _that_?"

In the fields of Elysium, there appeared an alien… like an astronaut who had shot through the clouds into heaven, pacing towards the spirit of the sun champion.

The ladies watched as the alien astronaut approached. He wore red and blue space suit, like none Barbara could ever have imagined. It was too thin too be pressurized, with a hundred dials and gauges in languages she had never seen.

On his chest plate, Barbara could make out a large, red "_S_", outlined by an inverted triangle with the two top edges softened. It seemed to be a crest, his country of origin perhaps?...

Everyone watched as the man pulled off his space helmet, to reveal the eyes of an old human man welling with tears, a smile overwhelming his white-bearded face. His joy had brought him to tears. They were even more shocked when he called out to Clark…

**"****_Kal-El_****!"**

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
Elysium is an earthly Heaven in Greek mythology. A country-side Valhalla where those chosen by the Greek gods live out the afterlife in bliss, free from the base toils of mortality in a land of plenty.

"_Kal-El_" is Superman's Kryptonian name. Be prepared to have your mind blown in the next chapter where I'm re-writing the entire Superman origin.


	86. Chapter 86

**LXXXVI  
The Last Days of Krypton**

**Author's Note:** Toss everything you know about Superman and Krypton out the window. Take a deep breath… _Proceed_ heroic reader.

* * *

On the fields of Elysium, they stood transfixed as the mysterious old stranger embraced the spirit of Clark, arms estimating where a body should be, spirit and reality. Tears fell in the space-man's eyes as his muffled sobbing was heard across the plains of heroes.

No one was more surprised than Clark.

The stranger pulled back to proudly gaze upon the image of Clark and spoke, a wistful smile upon his lips. Barbara Gordon listened intently, she was fluent in three languages, and considered herself an amateur linguist. But this was definitely like _no_ language she had ever heard before…

The commissioner's daughter was shocked to hear the shade of Azar reply in a similar tongue. The stranger seemed to understand her reply and adjusted a radio button near his neck. Barbara marveled when the old man replied to Azar in perfect English.

"They call it the language of Barbarians here. Greek seems to be the predominant tongue… Can you understand me now, Kal-El?"

"Yes, but my name is Clark...Who are you?"

"Too many years have passed from when I had to leave you, my son… I am your father, Jor-El. I have longed for nothing _except_ this day when we should meet again. "

"Are we in heaven?"

"A _sort_ of heaven, yes. A place of the brave dead. How I wished to be with you while you were alive, but it could not be. But now you have returned to me, my son…"

"I'm not dead."

"Many who arrive here say so... But I see you arrived with the living. Sit, tell me of your story and your companions."

"_Please_…" It was Barda who cut in. "Can someone wake Raven? He's dying... We don't have time for this!"

"No one dies here. Time is too slow. See for yourself." The white-bearded Jor-El motioned to the prone body of Scott Free.

"By the gods, it's _true_! The power level on mother box hasn't budged. You are forgiven, Raven for your hasty arrival. Heal her well, priestess."

"This land is ruled by Cronus," continued Jor-El. "Time in the land of the dead moves slowly, a shimmering dimension traveling at the speed of light between points of focus. Even shadows may not be cast. That's the reason my old necronaut suit has survived all these years…"

"Excuse me…" Clark said with a quizzical look. "Did you say _necronaut_?"

"I did, my son. The Science Counsel _mocked_ my research, my life's work… I'm sorry… These are _painful_ memories for me… but you _should_ know our story."

"I would like that." Clark now lowered himself upon the grass. He had waited his life to understand his mysterious origins. Could this be his _true_ father?

"Then where shall I begin?... You and I are from a planet called Krypton, once a shining marvel of the universe. A place of accomplishment. The people of Krypton evolved over the millennia to worship science, building sprawling temples to technology. Knowledge was our shrine, our passion, our hubris. _Progress_…

…Your mother, her name was Lara…a proud and beautiful soldier of the military guild. Like her brother and your cousin, hair of shining gold, eyes of blue… A strong, beautiful woman. This white mess I wear now upon my head was once as dark as yours. But when I was younger…

As a youth, I was fascinated with the _afterlife_… where did the spirit travel after death? What is the essence of being? I dreamed _too_ large, perhaps. My parents, your grandparents, often told me so. As an adult, there were members of the Science Guild who questioned my sanity, accusing me of being a heretic, left-over from the primitive age of religion. But what is science if _not_ to explore? And explore I did…

I discovered the _soul_.

The very recording template of our emotions, our memories, our perceptions and even reflections of those around us. The divine energy each of us carries inside, the 'memory effect' of the mind's event horizon - a lifetime of firing synapses and neurons recorded, the ejected from one life upon death and able to be inserted into another... to combine.

How _amazed_ I was when I first transcribed a soul, to reveal the experience and emotion of life, a recording of all someone had felt, had experienced, not only in one life, but many! The history of Krypton began to reveal itself through the lives of our past. Not in language, but emotional currents, memories…

I built a machine to view these energy effects, to measure their frequency, to chart the progress of souls to the afterlife and then I made my greatest and most _tragic_ discovery…

Like a radiation belt spinning around the planet, the souls of Kryptonians danced in our stratosphere. Like a million giant electrons coursing near light-speed around the nucleus of planetary life, these orbs of consciousness weaved their tales of the past through the radiation belt. It was _magical_…

And like a fool, I published my findings for my peers.

Our scientists did not believe in _souls_, Kal-El… Whatever evidence I presented, they were convinced that my 'religious' bias tainted the pure research I _should_ have conducted. Science was not superstition. Souls were abstract, interpretive.

But obviously there was _something_ there… something they believed I had stumbled upon. An energy that _could_ be harnessed...

And it _was_, Kal-El. The fools built giant transducers to harness the very consciousness of their ancestors and convert it to raw power. They labeled me an idiot savant as I begged them to stop… To respect the memories and lives of those who had come before us."

"_The soul barrier_…" Azar covered her face with both hands, eyes wide with horror.

"As fitting a name as any, dear lady. I see you are familiar with my discovery. My reaction was much the same as yours, my warnings dire. But they fell upon uncaring ears. My reputation as a scientist diminished and my wife… was driven _away_ from me, to her older brother, Zor-El, a prominent member of the Counsel and founder of Kryptonian eugenics. His earlier work had modified his unborn daughter, and your cousin, Kara Zor-El into something _incredibly_ powerful.

She was a super girl, able to fly at speeds unmatched by our fastest craft… to lift objects even our mightiest equipment could not. Nothing could harm her. And like the Zor-El's, she had hair of spun gold and eyes of pale blue, a beauty through-and-through. Powerful… like _you_, my son. A blessing and a curse I was unable to prevent.

As I sank into emotional ruin, my brother-in-law lured his sister, my wife, into his eugenic experiments. I had not even known she was pregnant, you see… Promises of a perfect baby, like Kara. I had no idea until it was _far_ too late… too consumed with my own grief and remorse of what I had _allowed_ to happen. I'm sure she believed her husband to be insane with all his talk of spirits and ghosts…

But you were born my son.. and your mother, my _beautiful_ Lara…"

They watched as the tears began to fall down the old man's cheeks into a beard of white. The sobs were interrupted by a gasp of air before he continued, wiping his eyes…

"You were too much life for her, my son… But she would not have wanted it any other way… She gladly gave her life so you could have yours… As any parent would.

You must never blame yourself for this. She wanted you to be strong… Like Kara.

So, while you were a lump in Lara's belly and I was consumed by the spirit world, I happened upon another _disturbing_ discovery… In space beyond our… 'soul barrier_'_, I spotted what I could only rationalize was a soul singularity.

Through monitors, I watched as far-reaching spirits disappeared into this black hole of existence, ringed by red swirling fire. Where had they gone? If it approached closer to our planet, could it even consume the souls of the living? Were we in danger? It seemed to be moving _towards_ Krypton…

Again, I brought this before the Counsel. Again, they dismissed me as a broken man who had shunned his wife, a hysterical charlatan trying to build a cult of fear among the weak-minded. In desperation, I went to Zor-El and was horrified when he revealed what he had done to Lara. As magnificent as Kara was, I realized the enormous risk such experiments placed upon the mother…

_'But if our children breed, Jor-El…'_

I still _shudder_ to recall those words, the plans he had for you and your older cousin…

But to his credit Kal-El, he _did_ believe me. If nothing else, he was convinced that something was devouring our new energy source. And it needed to be stopped. With his influence, he was quickly able to convince the Counsel.

And so they built a gun. A cannon the likes of which no one had ever seen.

And I, my son… I built this suit you see here. One for me, one for Lara, and one for our soon-to-be baby boy. Constructed to protect the soul. To defy the effects of the singularity, the spiritual black hole.

It also allows me to travel amongst the dead, to imitate the frequencies and cross untold dimensions the living have no business traversing. I only sought to protect my family and inadvertently became the first necronaut…

We finished on the same day, Krypton and I. The suits were built and the immense cannon was also completed, powered by soul energy - designed to increase the angular momentum and reverse the charge of the singularity drifting in space. Our scientists had calculated the exact trajectory so as not to destroy the moon of Krypton on a misfire… or nearby planets. It was the greatest project of our time.

Then soon after, you were born, your mother died, and a husband was broken… But the _father_ was born! When I first saw you Kal-El, my beautiful, baby boy… I did not know if the cannon could succeed. I only knew that we could escape. And that my son must be protected. He must _live_.

So I prepared.

And then it came… the singularity. And at the right time, the cannon was fired, hitting the target. But it was not a black hole.

Like a giant from space, _it_ fell. It wasn't a singularity, it was a crimson alien, four eyes of fire, a god of the past…"

"_Trigon_," Azar spoke.

"I did not realize it had a name. The cannon had worked, but it was not _enough_. The giant channeled its energy into Krypton itself. Powerful earth quakes began to destroy our world as energy began to tear the planet apart and poison the land itself. Your cousin Kara battled the monster, flying so fast and hitting with such force…

Until the giant shot beams from its eyes which reduced her to mere blackened bones tumbling through the skies above. I will never forget that horrible image, Kal El. It was the exact moment that I knew our world was doomed. We had channeled the souls of our dead against the beast and it had simply turned our power against us, destroying our world. Even Kara was no more than a distraction.

No one was spared... save you and I.

Crossing dimensional space, we escaped. I eventually found the planet where you were raised, my son. Imagine my surprise when I saw that its inhabitants looked _exactly_ like us! It was fate, it had to be... My mind recalled ancient Kryptonian explorations of the universe, what was known as the Great Colonization. Could I have stumbled upon a lost Kryptonian Colony?

Perhaps, but I knew immediately the atmosphere was not right for me. The oxygen was overwhelming and the gravity too strong. I had to rely on the limited capabilities of my suit. But you, the strongest of your race, you were _not_ overwhelmed. And I realized my error, Kal-El…

I had built the suit for a baby.

And you would grow to become a boy, to surpass the structure of your suit. I could traverse dimensional barriers, but there would soon come a day when you could not. Could we find a world for both of us before then? Observing this Earth, I reached a very painful decision. We had to part.

My investigations located a childless couple, removed from the complexities of society, hard-working, _good_ people. On the most difficult day of my life, I secretly left you, my only son, at their doorstep. I did not want you to grow up immersed in science, to be a fool like your father. Better to enjoy the beauty of nature and the pleasure of working the land. I was sure your uncle's eugenic engineering would give you a superior physical advantage and allow you to survive on this new world, even if I could not.

Days passed. I shifted in and out of the continuum to watch over you, to make sure they took you in as one of their own. That they loved you… The power of my suit was growing low… so I said farewell and followed the spirits to this place… Elysium.

I knew that someday fate would bring us together again.

And now it _has_, my son"


	87. Chapter 87

**LXXXVII  
Summation**

"I'm a _mutant_?!"

After hearing of his arrival into existence, the glowing spirit of Clark seemed horrified.

It had been _incredibly_ hard for him over the past two days… He had gone from the most powerful being on Earth to nothing but a mere reflection of himself. His one and only love had been assassinated, he had been poisoned, had failed to save his friend who now lay dying against an enemy who would not even fight Clark out of pity, and had been cast aside by the evil Ra's al Ghul who now inhabited his body.

And finally his _true_ origin had been revealed by a father he never knew he had.

"Not a mutant, my son. Genetically _engineered_. The practice was very common on Krypton… not to the degree that Zor-El had taken it, of course. You were _made_ to be stronger, faster, invulnerable.

During these past years I have searched for you upon the Earth and grown old. There is a _fear_ of science there. I suppose at one time, the same could have been said of Krypton… But for us, there was only self-preservation and knowledge while we lived.

Emotions could be purchased, memories transplanted from father to son. That is why the members of the Council scoffed at me when I explained my hypothesis of the soul… These things were already achievable through technology. What need of ghosts?

No my son, you are not different. You are _better_." Jor-El smiled proudly at the shade of his son.

"And I think you have _much_ larger problems than having been genetically engineered." Barbara Gordon was moving her hand back and forth through the spirit of Clark.

"Would you please cut that out?" Though his cheeks could show no color, she was _sure_ he was blushing.

"Alright... We have some time, let's try and _brainstorm_ a little, shall we?..." Barbara looked around at the sorry lot surrounding her and took a deep breath before continuing…

"Scott and Barbara Free are New Gods, very powerful. There are other New Gods in a place called New Genesis that can save Scott and perhaps help us against Trigon.

Clark – or Kal-El - is an alien who is also immensely powerful who's been pushed out of his physical body by Ra's al Ghul. Jor-El is his long-lost father who has built a suit that allows him to travel dimensions and protect his soul.

Azar was the wife of Ra's al Ghul. She was the founder of Azarath and is one of its spirits who reside in Raven. Raven is the wife of my boss and the daughter of that big red _thing_ that bitch-slapped us into Elysium. She's much more powerful than she looks. And Arella is her mother, who can use magic.

Are we good so far?"

Everyone nodded.

"I'm Barbara Gordon, vice-president of Wayne Communications - if it still _exists_. Now let's go over the opposition…

Lex Luthor is the President of The United States. We know he blew up someone I deeply cared for, even if he _isn't_ with the League of Assassins - he is an evil bastard _through-and-through_…"

"_Amen to that_." Clark agreed.

"What happened to Scott, Barda?"

"He fought Black Adam for my honor." Barda grimaced.

"Where is this Black Adam guy now?"

"In Hell."

"…Fair enough. Let's continue… The sultry Talia al Ghul is the daughter of Ra's al Ghul. She can do that whole _soul-takeover-thing_ but seems less scary compared to her father, who's a thousand years old, and maybe a little insane…"

"His consciousness is a thousand years old, my child." It was Azar this time. "He has lived in the bodies of many men through the centuries, claiming their physical structures as his own."

"Noted… And then there's Trigon. What do we know about him?... Azar?"

"When first I created Azarath one thousand years ago, we leaned how to cleave the negative emotions from our souls, to become beings or love and light. We cast the negative halves of our souls through the Great Door into the void beyond. These emotions became Trigon…"

"That doesn't make _sense_," continued Barbara. "From what we've seen, souls are incorporeal." She moved her hand through Clark again to prove her point while the shade stared into space. Even his _soul_ felt warm. "Trigon is definitely a _physical_ presence. He may consist of the dark halves of your souls, but he's _no_ spirit considering he was able to sire Raven from Arella. How did he become _real_?"

"I do not know."

"Jor-El, you called him a soul singularity. If he were a _true_ singularity - of the black hole variety, it would be doubtful he could even move of his own free will. Does he consume souls? Use them for power?"

"Likely," answered Jor-El. "I used the term _singularity_ as most souls seem unable to escape his event horizon. What _happens_ to these souls… even the greatest scientists could not say. They do _not_ escape, that is certain. And he is a near-omnipotent _physical_ being, I am certain of that. It is probable he is able to harness power from souls, much like Kryptonians had done with technology."

"Azar, what was the plan for defeating him?"

"Our hope lies in Raven… If the souls of Azarath are able to reclaim and embrace their dark side, to balance the evil that created Trigon, he can be stopped."

"But he's taken more than _just_ the souls of Azarath, correct? What was the population of Krypton, Jor-El?"

"Around three billion souls, give or take."

"So the question is, does he keep the souls or just eat them?"

"_Both_." It was a groggy Raven who answered, holding her head in her hands. "Did we make it to Elysium?"

"We did, thanks to you…" Azar replied.

"Ouch…" Raven Wayne forced herself slowly to her feet. "I have to go save Bruce…"

"_Wait_!" There was urgency in Barbara's voice. "…Trigon was _waiting_ for you. He tried to pluck us out of the dimensional stream. He knew you would try to save us."

"It is true that there is a danger should I shift near him… that he could simply reach out to snare me. But Bruce is in Washington."

"I think it's _you_ he wants. And according to Clark's father, there's no rush… Time hardly moves in Elysium."

"Time does move differently in the land of the dead… but we will not be welcome here, Barbara Gordon. We are of the _living_, the strands of fate run through us still."

"It's been pretty quiet so far…"

"Then you have not _truly_ looked." Raven spread her arm to the scenery around them. As her hand crossed the landscape, spirits from the ages appeared… Roman senators, great warriors, robed women of all ages… all staring enviously at them.

"…_Damn, _that's creepy… But if Scott goes back into regular time, he won't last long… Raven… _Please_… Barda has a proposition for you. She desperately needs your help."

The tall woman approached Raven, and fell to one knee in front of the young woman, grasping Raven's small hand within her two. Imploringly, blue eyes looked across into Raven's indigo eyes.

"_Please_… as a woman… as a wife… help me to save him. I will pledge myself to your cause, I will beg to the Highfather himself to defeat the evil you would battle alone. Just help me save him Raven, and I will rally the heavens themselves to your side…"

"Barda, I could not ask others to risk their lives for my battle…"

"It is not _your_ battle, girl. This man who walks Elysium, Jor-El, he has lost his _entire_ planet to this demon! Azar has lost Azarath, the Earth has lost Kahndaq and now is in peril, how many other worlds has this devil destroyed in his dark reign? How many more will he destroy if he is not stopped?! This is a battle of _ALL_ life versus death eternal. The New Gods will fight for Life!"

Raven moved forward to take Barda into her arms, embracing the large woman in all her warrior's passion. For Barda, it was strange to have another's emotions coursing through her, but at least they were the _right_ emotions. Raven spoke to Barda's ear…

"Of course I will help, Barda… I know what it is to be a woman and wife in love. But first I need to see _my_ husband. Just to _know_… I'm afraid I'll lose myself if I don't see him… to know he's alright and alive. Can you understand?"

"Just hurry..."

"…Trigon will be aware of your arrival child, and will seek to prevent you from leaving." This was wise Azar.

"I will travel as my soul self in the guise of the dragon across dimensions. I will be succinct, Azar."

And with that - before other objections could be raised - she was gone.


	88. Chapter 88

**LXXXVIII  
Father and Daughter**

Raven became the soul of the dragon once more, leaving gentle Elysium and her physical self behind for the new battlefields of Earth. Though they had not wished it, war was upon them… She feared for Bruce even more than she would say, not _only_ because she had left him in the clutches of a madman, but also because her all-powerful father, the scourge of life, was to set foot upon the soil of their ill-prepared home world. And where Trigon trod, the dark crows of death followed.

Even now, she could sense the great beast across the world… it was impossible _not_ to. He was too close now… anger, vengeance, hate, lust and the cold fury of destruction filled even the blackest void of space itself, crawling into her skin. As an empath, Raven was not immune to the onslaught of his dark passions… but she had spent a lifetime controlling these emotions, and the dragon was strong.

She understood _why_ she was an empath. As Raven was able to project her emotions to those around her, Trigon was able to drown worlds with his. How could she even _stand_ before him, let alone battle the totality of madness? She knew that to give into these passions was a victory for evil-incarnate, to become the puppet of the demon. She wondered if even the New Gods could stand before the _true_ power of Trigon?...

The only answer was that they _must_.

As she found her way to the familiar building, Raven traveled along shadows of its corridors, finally located Bruce in a Pentagon room, close to where she had left him. She gave a prayer to the gods of mercy… her husband was _alive_! She appeared as her shadow-self beside him to wrap her love in soul-warmed arms.

* * *

With his remaining generals, Bruce Wayne watched the hideous things slide, slither and fly across the sands of Kahndaq on wi-screens. It was like a horror movie come to life and _far_ too real.

Suddenly, the familiar shadow he had been longing for, appeared next to him and took him in its arms.

Five generals, all veterans of horrific, life-scarring wars immediately drew their side arms - aiming at the shadow figure. As thankful as he was to have Raven by him once more, Bruce retained the presence of mind to raise his hands and address his generals…

"Stand down everyone. It's alright, this is my _wife_… or at least a part of her. She's on our side."

"I had feared you were dead, my husband." Raven's soul voice spoke telepathically to him. Bruce smiled at his nervous audience.

"I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen, I will need a moment. I may be unresponsive for a few minutes. She's our greatest hope in this war."

Raven appeared in Bruce's soul landscape once more, where she was able to materialize not as a shadow, but as herself. She had never considered how disturbing her shadow-self could be to an unexpecting bystander, but she could sense the fear and panic of the men and women around her husband.

Once again, they stood on the shores of the dark sea, feet planted upon the sands of her husband's consciousness. The volcano was mercifully quiet this time.

"I am sorry my husband, I did not mean to startle you. It was unsafe for me to come in my corporeal form."

"I'll take whatever I can get right now. I was so worried about you… _Where_ are you?"

"In Elysium, my love, with the others. Scott Free is still near death."

"Do you mean _you're_…" Bruce Wayne didn't have the emotional strength to finish that sentence.

"No my love, we are _alive_." Her smile was beautiful. "We narrowly escaped Trigon's grasp as his demons descended upon us. I'm afraid Ra's al Ghul has taken Clark's body and the soul of Big Blue now travels with me. We must ask assistance of the New Gods to aid our cause and to save Scott Free… My father is more powerful than I can even dream to comprehend."

"You've been busy too. Talia is poisoned, but still alive for now. Luthor is dead. That makes me the President apparently."

"I am sorry I was not there for you…"

"I should have been with _you_. Can you come back to Earth?"

"I _will_ my love. If you ask it of me, I will… But Scott Free lies dying on the eroding fields of Elysium and no mortal power on Earth may save him."

"…One hour… Come back to me in one hour. If we're going to die, I want to us to face whatever awaits us together."

"And if we live, I want to never again be parted from you."

They embraced and kissed like lovers separated by war… until they heard ominous laughing _very_ close and the soft squeals of a bat…

Only twelve feet away, sitting beside the fiery bat of Bruce's vengeance was Trigon _himself_, petting the monstrous demon of revenge as it stood on all fours upon the bleak sands - in the affections of its _true_ master. Raven's father was a muscular, crimson demon, with four eyes of fire and long white hair.

There was an aura of destruction and fear emanating from him, but for all the world he looked like a father in his favorite old chair on an overcast Sunday morning - petting the family dog. But Bruce did not like his smile _at all _as he spoke - images starting to form in his soul's eye_…_

"How _little_ you think of me, my daughter. I come so far to greet you and you dishonor me, only now to sneak back into the arms of your lover while you believe my back is turned. Come, what terrible sins have you committed? Your father would like to know..."

"I will _not_ let you hurt him!" Raven stepped in front of her husband and stood defiant against the demon, power beginning to course through her as the water began to crash upon the nearby shore.

"_Me_?..." Trigon laughed. "No dear daughter, _you_ shall punish him. For his arrogance and hubris to ever _believe_ he could love one such as yourself. If he had been strong enough to open the door for me to enter this world… as I had asked, I _may_ have let him… _briefly_ love you.

You were _so_ close, Bruce Wayne. You only lacked that _final_ resolve... But in the end, you let me down. I had to rely on another to lay waste to those meaningless souls… How could I ever permit such a weak-willed fool to be with my only daughter?"

"That he would accept me for who I am _with_ such a father, that is his _true_ strength! You would prey on his life's tragedy, to guide his soul to wickedness… He was too strong for you!"

"He has _tenacity_, I will admit." The demon continued to stroke the coarse fur of the bat. "But you are the great Trigon's daughter. You are of the gods, Raven. That is your birthright."

"Then I choose this man."

"But at what cost, little one?... Were you to sacrifice _all_ that you love and join me, I would spare this world. Would you like that?"

"I would choose death first."

"Easy words to _say_… I will ask again upon your return. Bring everyone and everything you hold sacred to your heart, my child. Azar, the souls of Azarath, your mother, this weak man… They will be sacrificed upon your alter. It's very… _liberating_."

"We may die, Trigon, but it will not be for my sake. It will be on the battlefield _against_ you."

"Sacrifice them however you like, but this path _will_ be followed. It is your inheritance. Embrace it, or I shall embrace it for you. Dwell upon this, daughter."

In a flash of smoke, he was gone.

Raven turned to see Bruce on his hands and knees - trembling, pale as a ghost, gasping for air. With all of her power, she exuded a feeling of calm through his soul as she rushed to him to take him into her arms once more, cradling his head. His soul was a battlefield of terror.

"Shhh… It's alright my love. He's gone. I am here."

"_Raven_?... " There were tears in Bruce's eyes as he shook. "I _was_… He showed me _terrible_ things… It was like I just had the nickel tour of Hell itself… I don't think I can ever be the same again…Dear God… Forgive me."

"That is _his_ world, not ours. You are back with me and there is only the love and hope we share. We will fight for hope. Do you remember our promise?"

"I do… I will fight for hope… He's so… damned _awful_!"

"He is _all_ things awful, a god of evil. A terrible burden upon any man's soul, let alone to taint it with his presence. But you are strong and I am here for you." She kissed his forehead once more and wiped away the remnants of tears from her husband's cheeks.

"_Damn_… You live your whole life thinking you're pretty tough until something like _that_ gets inside you." He took a deep breath and exhaled. Color returned to his face.

"His weapons are the souls he ultimately consumes. Without even lifting a finger, Trigon could have the inhabitants of this world tear one another apart."

"I'm not sure how we're going to defeat him, Raven."

"Nor am I, my love. But we will try and never give up hope."

He then smiled up at her, that _rare_ Bruce Wayne grin.

"And I will _never_ give up on the wife who saves my soul every day…" He raised his face to hers, guiding her mouth downwards to his, to finish what had been interrupted before. He was amazed to find that with each encounter, he was more in love with this woman than he thought he could ever feel. When they were satisfied, he continued…

"Shouldn't you be going? Are you in pain?"

"No, my love. Not a single second has passed in Elysium from when I left. Time is much slower there."

"Good to know… Raven, these _demons_… will missiles work?"

"Unless Trigon intervenes, _yes_… conventional weapons should harm them. However, Trigon could disable any attack he wishes. Against my father, conventional weapons would do nothing but provoke him."

"All I needed to know… Be quick, OK?"

"I will be traveling to the edges of the Universe to meet the New Gods, but I will do my best. You must warn the entire world of Trigon's evil and prepare them for an army of gods."

"_Heh_… Can't wait. Good luck, Mrs. Wayne."

"May the fates themselves rally to our cause." A gentle hand to his cheek and shy smile - she was gone once more.

* * *

Bruce awoke… surrounded by emergency techs and generals looking down at him. It took him a second to realize that he was lying on the floor of the board room where he had been. He looked up at the concerned faces…

"I'm alright… How long have I been out?"

"…About five minutes, sir." One of the generals replied.

"America… We've got _a lot_ to do…"

At that instant in Elysium, before Barbara Gordon's mouth had opened to speak a single syllable of protest, the spirit of Raven Wayne returned, her eyes opening.

"…Change your mind?" inquired Barbara curiously.

"No... I have returned. I believe I have learned something of Trigon's ultimate goal which should provide us a little time. His ambition is not so simple as the devastation of the Earth and the consumption of its souls."

"…What _else_ does he want?" inquired Barbara.

"...Me."


	89. Chapter 89

**LXXXIX  
The Trial of Black Adam**

**Glossary:**

The _Nun_ is the primordial, watery abyss in Egyptian mythology. The Nun is the source of all that appears in a differentiated world, encompassing all aspects of divine and earthly existence. It is the same waters that flow around the shores of characters' consciousnesses in my story.

Ammit is a female deity/demon in Egyptian mythology. A cross between a lion, hippopotamus and crocodile, she sits by the side of Anubis and devours the hearts of the unworthy if they are heavier than the feather of Ma'at, the goddess of Truth.

The _Duat_ is a vast area under the Earth, surrounded by the _Nun_. Another 'land of the dead' it was the place where people's souls went after death for judgment in Egyptian mythology, although it was only a precursor to the true afterlife for enlightened souls who survived the weighing of the heart ritual.

* * *

A broken spirit trod the shadow lands of the Duat… alone in its suffering.

Each step another milestone of endurance, so _heavy_ was the burden he bore in his chest. His sins laughed at him, flickering in the dark, heavy air of the underworld. They pushed him to madness and clung to his legs. Agonizing steps took him closer to the edge of the abyss – to where he could now hear the dark waves of the _Nun_ crashing against bleak, jagged shores far below… Oblivion.

He wanted to crawl now… but men who crawled in Duat became worms for lean crows. He had tasted briefly of the _Nun's_ cold, black waters three thousand years ago… watching as Isis dissolved into the sea foam of existence as he reached to save her… the same sea foam which now filled his black heart where love once dwelled.

Standing atop the cliff he stared into the abyss below, watching the waves crash against jagged teeth. Had they spoken to Isis this way? How _simple_ it would be to take one _final_ step... To allow his broken body to be washed away into cold oblivion, to share the fate of the woman he loved…

For against the feather of Anubis, would _any_ man's heart weigh heavier than Adam's?

He who had _dared_ to rule the world… he who had been chosen by the great Shazam only to embrace the seven deadly sins, the same enemies he had sworn to deny… to cast aside the Wizard for the gods of his youth… and even to declare himself the _superior_ to those gods, drunk with their power… and now that once-proud spirit walked the lands of the dead as a _man_.

He was not a god.

His strength would fail. He would have to shuffle heavily into the Halls of the Dead… the terrible Ammit would weep crocodile tears of joy at sight of such a feast! Although the she-demon may also choose to spit out his black heart into the lake of fire for its bad taste. He knew the fate of men such as himself in the just lands of his cruel gods and relished neither.

"Your heart weighs _heavy_, Adam…"

Adam turned with great effort to see the old wizard Shazam standing upon the Duat.

"Have you died as well, old man?"

"No, my black-hearted disciple… _although_ my time does grow near… But there was a time when I would fair no better than you upon the scale of Anubis."

"Then those old eyes have failed you, Wizard. You have not witnessed Adam's many sins of late." It was the first time Adam had laughed in the afterlife.

"It is the sacred duty of a wizard to record every deed of the Champions into the Great Book… I saw. Your heart was long-ago conquered by the seven deadly vices… as was mine even longer before that. A dip in the _Nan_ and a stroll upon the shores of Duat do not cast the unholy seven from heavy hearts such as ours."

"Yet _you_ stand with such little effort. Or were your mortal transgressions so grievous that your gods chained you to the Rock of Eternity as penance? Or perhaps their retribution was that you should be an eternal Wizard and choose one such as _I_ as your eternal Champion… How they must laugh."

"No, Adam... you were to be my _salvation_. I was once the most powerful sorcerer of this reality. Through the corruption of magic, I sought to surpass the gods themselves! I took demons as lovers, allowing them to share my bed and slept soundly as they whispered tales of wickedness into my silken pillows.

It was I who sought this path to redemption, not the gods.

By choosing _you_ as my champion, I sought to _atone_ for my many sins… You were a good man once, Adam - when first we met so long ago. But as Champion, you drew your power _directly_ from the gods, not from the Rock of Eternity. You would not allow me to guide you…

The Rock is the _balance _of power, built by these hands in equal measure from the stones of Heaven and Hell themselves. _All_ that is divine, the source of magic upon Earth that resides in its rocky halls."

"And do you now fear the final death as your trembling Champion, wizard? You would have been better to choose a bright-eyed boy than this sniveling coward before you."

"I accept my demise. Truly, I care less than I should. Perhaps the long years have dulled my woe. They have dulled every other thing I once held dear… But I do have one regret, Adam."

"Only _one_, old man? Then speak to me of this sole regret that I may perhaps absolve you of all worry before we journey together into eternal oblivion. Though I have _sorely_ failed in the sacred oath I swore to you so long ago… perhaps I may unburden you of this one last regret."

"_Perhaps_… The greatest evil the world has ever faced now stands terribly upon the sands above. This was the task you were _resurrected_ for, Adam. I provided the lightning of your rebirth so that you could face this great evil. Were you to prevail, ten thousand years of sins would be washed away as specks of dust against the mighty ocean…"

"Resurrect me once more, wizard and I will paint the stars of Heaven themselves with its demonic life-blood!"

"Alas, you would _not_… This is a demon of _corruption_. Powerful beyond measure, even for an old man like me. Anyone who has accepted the teachings of the seven deadly enemies would soon become a willing disciple to this King of Evil, another base minion of destruction."

"Then why did you resurrect me? You _knew_ of the evils in this heart!" Adam pounded upon his chest with his right hand.

"But did _you_, Adam?... Did you know? When first you stepped upon these pathways of the dead, it was but to follow true love into the afterlife. Did you know of the evil in your heart then?"

"…No. My sole thought was of Isis."

"Then did true love bring you once again to this place? Has it cursed you once more to walk these desolate paths to seek it out?"

"What know this frothing heart of _true_ love any longer?... Lust, Envy, Pride… These were but three of the faithful footmen who carried me to the Iron Gates of Duat. I fought for the love… nay, do not say _love_, Adam, that word is forbidden to you… for the _body_ of a woman who was not mine… nor did she wish to be.

I grievously wounded her husband who fought only to protect her and her honor from the spurious advances of a dark Champion... No old man, _true_ love cast itself from my heart off these very cliffs into the cold seas of the _Nun_ long ago, for it was here that Isis chose her fate. That which is poor foam in my heart could not bring me here."

"You are a man of no deceptions. You know yourself well."

"There are no deceptions here, old friend. _Too_ well I know the darkness I carry within - just as I know how it will foul the mighty jaws of Ammit _herself_. The scales of Anubis may not even bear such a weight as this black heart holds…"

The wizard surveyed the landscape of Duat. Once a land of gates and wonders, it was now closer to a wasteland of the soul.

"It's quiet here, isn't it? No others have walked these paths for many lifetimes."

"It is… These trails were once filled with the souls of my brethren, now they seem overgrown and abandoned. My faith is too old for this modern world, but I fear my gods still wait for my arrival."

"They do… But I have offered them a compromise."

"A _compromise_, wizard?" Adam was intrigued.

"Aye, Champion. A deal such as wizards make… I am the oldest man you shall ever meet Adam, but even I am not immortal. Not even the gods themselves are _truly_ immortal. Even a human such as myself has witnessed the transformation from the Third World of the divine to this strange new Fourth World. Only the ghosts of your gods remain.

And as fallen Champions die, so too do wizards. But there was _never_ a greater need for a Wizard _and_ a Champion of the fourth world. That is my regret Adam, that we die too soon… That we may not aid mankind in its darkest hour."

"But you will not resurrect me as champion."

"No Adam, you are not the Champion the world so desperately needs… But you may be the Wizard it now requires."

"I am no Wizard." He had been many things, but never a wizard.

"A simple thing. We will trade places. The student will become the master. All knowledge is contained within the Rock which you will become a part of. All past deeds are transcribed into the Great Book."

"As poor a Champion I was, a student I am _worse_."

"Then learn! And choose _better_ than I, Adam… And you were wiser than you know, but it was wisdom that you tempered with malevolence. Upon the Rock, the evils of consciousness are held captive and will not weigh upon your heart or decisions. But choose _quickly_. Even the gods themselves fear the evil that now strides the Earth."

"A _deal_…Will your heart will be placed upon the great scale instead of mine?!"

"Your heart will find its way there in time… but _yes_. This was the compromise. But I accept my fate. Will you accept _yours_? Even now my life's will seeps from this body held together by so little… Death pulls with all its might at the strings of mortality. I have no time – or desire - to choose another Champion."

"I can _never_ repay you." It was the first time a tear had wetted Adam's eye in three thousand years. How strange that it had been on this _very_ spot. The parchment of Fate was washed with tears such as these.

"Select a Champion who can defeat the Great Evil so that the scale of Anubis weighs in our favor. That is repayment _beyond_ the debt. As heavy as you believe your sins to be, they are but a gentle breeze compared to the rotting heart of the red demon above. _Balance_, Adam… seek balance."

"I will, old man."

"Then say my name… one last time, true Adam… the new Wizard of the Rock. The gods themselves shall guide you."

"_SHAZAM_!"

And with a flash of lightning, Adam was brought again to the hallowed halls of the Rock of Eternity. The first time he appeared as its Champion, but now he was its servant. It spoke to him of its need and peril.

He had much to do and learn.


	90. Chapter 90

**XC  
And All The King's Men…**

"Where do you want us to start, Mr. President?..."

Now standing, Bruce Wayne looked at the fifty-three generals who surrounded him, trying to think of an _answer_ to that question. Over the past year, he had constructed countless scenario algorithms dealing with Raven's father through probability software with thousands of variables to attempt to account for the supernatural. However, none of his scenarios ever began with him becoming the President of the U.S.A…

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats. Let's begin with the rules of engagement with what we've been able to gather so far…

Rule number one, and this is important… All actions against this threat must be approved by Bruce Wayne. I am the commander-in-chief and project manager.

Rule number two… Do _not_ take a shot at the big, red guy. You'll only piss him off and lots of people will die. See rule number one if in doubt.

Rule number three, those ugly demon-things are to be contained in Kahndaq with extreme prejudice. You _can_ take shots at them, but not at the big, red guy. See rule number two.

Rule number four, also very important… we need _all_ the help we can get. There are no _foreign_ relations anymore. There's only _one_ enemy and he doesn't care if you're American, Chinese, African, Muslim, Christian, Atheist or even Popular… He's here to kill everyone regardless.

And finally rule number five… never give up hope. I call this Raven's rule."

Bruce felt the temperature _drop_ in the room. Were they beginning to grasp the enormity of what they were up against? It was completely different than any enemy they had ever known. The cold hand of fear began to take hold of them as everyone began to stare at one particular screen behind him.

That one wi-screen - which had previously shown scores of demon hordes - now suddenly captured the red scion of terror _himself_… _well_ over two hundred feet tall as he slowly descended to the applause of thunder against a crimson sky unto the darkened sands of Kahndaq.

Trigon had arrived on Earth.

A sudden, collective gasp filled the room as they all felt _something_ as the demon's feet touched the ground of their planet. Like a dismal wave across the world, every single human felt the same sense of overwhelming dread that had lain dormant in their genetic code from the time of prehistory… only now awakened by the coming of Trigon.

"…Excuse me sir, but what the Hell _is_ that thing?!"

"…The Devil... But he calls himself _Trigon_ now."

"Sir, should we launch nuclear weapons?!"

"Violates rule number two. Trigon would perceive that as a threat and react. We do _not_ want him to react. Our job is to minimize the damage and wait until the cavalry arrives."

"…I'm sorry, sir… The _Cavalry_?!" All eyes now turned to Bruce Wayne, awaiting an explanation, a glimmer of hope against the incarnation of evil half a world away.

"As President Lane said, the Universe is _much_ larger than humanity dares to admit. It was our stubborn denial of life _outside_ of our own atmosphere and a failure to communicate with our fellow citizens of Earth that has found us so unprepared for what is now this planet's _greatest_ battle…

A life-or-death battle for our continued existence into tomorrow against the Devil.

Were we to attack this enemy, let's call him _Big Red_, with convention weapons, he would simply destroy us. Period… My wife is traveling to enlist the aid of the New Gods, beings much like our own Big Blue... Meta-humans if you will. With luck, _they_ are the cavalry we so desperately need to help us defeat that thing. There are also other forces across the galaxy that may now come to our aid. Our job is to stay alive and buy them time.

As I stated in rule number four, we need _all_ the help we can get, even if it comes from the other side of the Universe." Bruce smiled a little watching their reactions. They were actually taking this better than he thought they would. With the coming of Trigon, a lifetime of bureaucratic thought was replaced by a need for survival. He was nothing if not a game changer.

"Excuse me sir, would the Ultimate Weapon that was used on Kahndaq this morning be effective against these creatures?"

"_Unlikely_... We must assume they have a physiology much different than our own. And the weapon-grade nanites in Kahndaq would need to replenish. It would be days before another shot could be made in that country."

"But it's still an option in other areas, _if_ the situation dictates?"

"…Yes."

For Bruce, it was a fast indoctrination into the politics of war. It was simply about _permission_. Transgressions were the lifeblood of war, it was whether someone was permitted to proceed… or _not_.

"Shall we alert our ships in the Mediterranean and Persian Gulf?"

"Certainly. And everyone else's for that matter. But keep all fighters around the perimeter of Kahndaq. Getting too close to or trying to shell Big Red will only result in instant annihilation."

Many of the room's occupants actually _jumped_ when the door was _abruptly_ opened by a young female aid with an urgent message….

"I'm _so_ sorry sir… It's the Chinese Ambassador on a screen. He says his government is prepared to launch a nuclear attack against us unless he talks to the president _immediately_."

"…Put him on." Bruce drew a deep breath and put a hand to the back of his head as a _very_ angry, elder Chinese statesman appeared on a screen in front of him.

"Where is _Luthor_?!..."

"I'm afraid President Luthor is dead. Until the global emergency is resolved, I'm now the acting president, Bruce Wayne…"

"You Americans are like ancient Rome… Killing each another to become emperor for a day! Witness what you have done! Your sins upon the world have brought the Great Yama down to Earth, to punish mankind! We have been monitoring the situation closely!"

"…_Yama_, the Buddhist God of Death?" His wife's studies of the Earth's religions had obviously rubbed off on him.

"Yes, Wayne… Yama. How will you make reparations to the People's Republic for enraging our God?!"

"Ambassador… It is _very_ important that we do not engage with this demon. This is not Yama, his name is _Trigon_… an omnipotent demon who will extinguish _all_ life on the planet if we can not immediately find a way to stop him. Our government is currently putting together a plan of action and would greatly appreciate the help of the People's Liberation Army and the support of your government… "

"America's time is _over_, Wayne! It ended this morning when you declared war on the world. Mighty China will lead all nations from the madness of your new Rome, with its decadence, debt and false promises. And then we will present _you_ with a treaty of surrender!"

The screen disappeared as the call ended.

"_Well_…" Bruce sighed with disappointment and looked at the men and women around him. "…That didn't go well."

"The world's not ready to work together, sir... And frankly, that Ambassador has _always_ been a wanker." Bruce grinned. He liked this young, Asian lady general.

"Then we'd better get started calling every other government and confirm the need for a unified front. Line up all military resistance around Kahndaq available. I'll be making a network statement in ten minutes. Mr. Okama, alert the media room. Make sure it's on _every_ and _any_ channel with a signal. We're facing a global crisis on a scale of which we've never known.

And this is now mission central, the war room."

"Excuse me sir…" Someone from the back. "But we have a war room located on the bottom floor…"

"It will be a cold day in Hell before I set foot in _that_ room again... OK everyone, I'll need an update in twenty minutes…"

Bruce watched as generals scurried to make calls on floating screens, the room suddenly abuzz with activity. The Asian-looking general who had called the Chinese Ambassador a 'wanker' now approached him as Bruce opened up his own screens - to search for programs he preferred to keep well hidden.

"Excuse me Sir, I'm General Liang..."

"You're quite young to be a General." Bruce never took his eyes off the screen in front of him, tunneling his way through walls of data-encryption and protocols.

"Yes sir, I'm a one-star General. Actually, until yesterday I was a glorified secretary. Three of my commanding officers were killed during the White House attack and the remaining C.O. was one of the men in the war room..."

"I'm sorry... What can I do for you, General Liang?"

"We need to talk about LexCorp, sir."

"That's exactly what I'm working on right now, General Liang... What is your department by the way?" Bruce was still engrossed in his screen, picking his way through a maze of information.

"I suppose I am the current head of Military Intelligence... Excuse me sir, but the Pentagon has an _entire_ department devoted to covert Data Ops with some of the best minds in the country. I'm sure they could help you with whatever you're currently doing..."

"Let's be honest... LexCorp has the best minds in the country. Luckily Wayne Industries has one better. I'll be calling him in ten seconds. Your Data Ops wouldn't be able to help me with I'm doing at the moment."

"Yes sir. I just wanted to say that LexCorp has a number of _off-the-books_ weaponry that so far we've only suspected. We need to seize these assets ASAP."

"My thoughts _exactly_, General. I need to make two quick calls, please stay here. There's someone I'd like you to meet." Bruce smiled at her.

"...Yes, sir."

Bruce brought up the ID for Tim Drake on a wi-screen and made the call. Tim was his VP of technology at both Wayne Industries and Wayne Communications and one of the truly frightening intellects on the planet. Bruce had hired him directly from MIT when he had graduated at seventeen. Now at twenty-three, he was the mastermind and creator of the Oracle technology and was capable of giving Bruce access to any information he required, by any means required.

In one of life's bizarre twists of fate, a young Tim Drake had actually been at the same circus where Richard's parents had been murdered. The night that had changed Bruce's tragedy-filled life into a life of caring and purpose had also affected Tim. It was strange how life worked sometimes. Keen blue eyes below dark hair answered the call.

"Bruce! You've been on privacy settings, you dumbass... You're at the _Pentagon_?!..."

"Long story, Tim. I'm back now. Luthor's dead, and I'm the acting president. I need you to initiate operation _Tackle_. I've opened all my permissions. How long will that take?"

"Good riddance, that explains the sudden share reversal... And for the record Bruce, I never sold." Bruce could see Tim's hands begin moving below while he talked.

"I appreciate that, Tim. But how long for the Tackle op?"

In his mind, Bruce calculated the share percentages that he, Alfred, Tim and Barbara held. Wayne Communications would be still under their control, but the four of them held only a third of Wayne Industries total shares, no where near a controlling interest. He wondered if it even mattered anymore.

"And... _done_." Tim smiled that brash, young smile. His resemblance to Richard was uncanny sometimes…

"Excellent... and Mr. Drake, I would like you to meet your new, best friend. Tim, this is General Liang, head of Military Intelligence at the Pentagon. General this is Tim Drake, my VP of Technology. I would like you two to work together on the sequestration of LexCorp assets."

"Sequestration of LexCorp? Bruce, you've just made my _year_!..." Tim Drake demonstrated what a smile from ear-to-ear looked like. Bruce could almost see the gears spinning in that brilliant mind.

"Yes, sir. Shall we begin immediately?" Liang seemed almost as pleased.

"First Tim, shall we call our old friend Fritz? I'd like to _personally_ break the news to him…"

"Hell, yes!" It was as if Tim had received his Christmas bonus early.

Fritz Hollmann was LexCorp's Vice President of Research and Development, the equivalent of Lucius Fox. There was a joke in the industry that Hollmann could trace his ancestry all the way back to 1945, shortly after the Nazis burned their files.

He was the most Aryan-looking Argentinean that Wayne had ever met. It had been rumored that Hollmann's grandfather had been one of the foremost Nazi scientists who had fled to Argentina during the last days of World War II. Bruce was almost certain it _wasn't_ a rumor.

No Hollmann descendant had even dared to set foot in Europe since the end of the war for fear of reprisal. Doctor Hollmann had made far too many enemies that had passed the rights of vengeance down from father-to-son, so _heinous_ had the war crimes of Nazi scientist been. Even the family's future spouses had been carefully selected and then flown to Argentina from the Fatherland - with swastika-stamped bars of gold exchanging hands.

That Luthor had been able to guarantee the arrival and immigration to America of a Hollmann - to occupy such a prestigious position at LexCorp - spoke to the _incredible_ power and influence of the deceased madman.

With Tim granted silent access, Bruce placed a call to a number he had no business of knowing. He had _a lot_ of those numbers thanks to Tim.

A man with thinning blonde hair, and cold blue eyes answered in a strong German accent.

"Ahhh, Mr. Wayne. Have you called to explain the miracle of your company's stay of execution?"

"How's life at the ODESSA room in LexCorp, Herr Hollmann?"

"Very droll, Mr. Wayne. I see you are calling from the Pentagon… but _not_ behind bars. What deal have you struck with Luthor?... I am _most_ interested."

"No deal... I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, Fritz…. Lex Luthor is dead."

"I see… Well, these things do happen."

"You don't seem surprised…"

"Mr. Wayne, if you were to demand the nations of the world to surrender _unconditionally_ within 24 hours, would _you_ expect to live out the rest of the day? Luthor may have gained the secret of your weapon, but he had so _many_ enemies and so few friends."

"Fair enough... Bad news number two, before he passed on, he used his executive authority to name me the Secretary of Defense."

"…And the current line of succession and lack of Secretaries would promote you to the position of unelected President. How _fortunate_ for you. A first for America if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes... Bad news number three. There is an all-powerful demon that has just landed on Kahndaq. The U.S. government needs the military assets of LexCorp… _ALL_ of them."

"If there is a need, then of course. We expect to be compensated for our cooperation… provided we survive."

"Oh, and Fritz…"

"Yes, Mr. Wayne?"

"That _includes_ the Tachyon cannon you currently have in orbit."

"… _Tachyon cannon_, Mr. Wayne?..." Hollmann displayed the telltale twitch and guilty smile of bad poker player. "Surely you understand such things are only science fiction… The causal paradoxes of quantum mechanics prohibit such a thing. The speed of light is absolute, I assure you… LexCorp only pursued this concept _hypothetically_…"

"Really? Interesting… Say Tim, what was the name of the satellite we just took control of?"

"It's called LexCorp Tachyon Cannon Number One, Mr. Wayne."

"Wayne, _please_!... It cost twenty-seven billion dollars to build that! It has never been tested! One shot may distort the entire space-time continuum…" His calm German demeanor was now shattered as Wayne called his bluff.

"It may be the _only_ chance we have, Fritz... The end times truly _are_ upon us. If we work together, it may be a new beginning for all of us… But _whatever_ happens, the world will never be the same."

"It is my life's work…"

"My life's work just killed eleven million people this morning… Perhaps we should retire as merchants of death and begin anew. Call your wife and kids, Herr Hollmann."

"I will. But before you use the cannon, please let me know, Mr. Wayne. I could die happy to see it fire just _once_. As a scientist, you must agree that the possibilities are endless."

"I do. And I will, Fritz." Bruce ended the calls and started on his way to the media room.

A nervous world awaited.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Fritz Hollmann is one of the actual aliases of a famous World War II criminal.  
I'll let you look that one up.

The crack that Bruce made about the "_ODESSA Room_" is from the "**O**rganisation **d**er **e**hemaligen **SS**-**A**ngehörigen, or "Organization of Former SS Members" - formed shortly after the end of World War II to help SS members escape capture.  
The SS stands for **Schutzstaffel**, which was one of the most infamous branches of the Nazi party during WWII, led by Heinrich Himmler.

Tachyons are hypothetical particles that constantly move faster than the speed of light. Einstein's original theory of relativity states that nothing with mass moves faster than the speed of light, but if it did it would move backward in time. See Einstein's thought experiments on the tachyonic antitelephone.

Operation _Tackle_ stands for "Take LexCorp". Tim and Bruce put together a program designed to hack and seize control of the entire LexCorp operating systems when Luthor was elected vice-president.


	91. Chapter 91

**XCI  
Past Transgressions**

**Author's Note:**  
In an alternate universe where Bruce Wayne is _not_ Batman, where a non-existent Justice League does _not_ explore the mysteries of the Universe, it makes sense that Bruce would have faith in God. I realize that in the comics, he is generally portrayed as an agnostic, a lapsed Catholic or an Episcopalian. It is not my intent to portray Bruce as an _overly_ religious character. However, when humanity is threatened by the terrible power of Trigon, it seems logical that many people are going to look for divine assistance, including Bruce.

* * *

Bruce Wayne now stood in front of the cameras, preparing to address the world. Thoughts of a Tachyon Cannon occupied a certain part of his mind… would it _work_?! Would it tear apart the fabric of reality? Create alternate realities? Had they entered the dominion of God?... He wondered if J. Robert Oppenheimer had these exact same thoughts in 1945. As the director spoke, Bruce came back to the present.

"We're ready, Mr. President. In 5, 4, 3, …, …."

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the world, the _greatest_ threat to our continued existence has now landed upon the Earth. The gates of Hell have opened over the former country of Kahndaq and the life of every man, woman and child now hangs in the balance from an extra-dimensional force of extraordinary power.

Also, I must inform you that Lex Luthor, the acting President of the United States, is _dead_…

As the newly appointed Secretary of Defense, the job of leading this country into war has now fallen to me. My name is Bruce Wayne. I am the acting President. I will take responsibility for the tragedy that has befallen us and lead our resistance against it.

We are at war with an adversary unlike any other.

We face a creature with power of Biblical proportions... The supreme enemy of life itself. We have footage of this event which happened only moments ago. This is not a hoax, this is not a stunt, this is _real_."

The chilling footage of a giant Trigon descending into Kahndaq played on a large screen behind Bruce as the world watched in horror.

"There is only one simple fact…

The sun will set upon the human race today… or we will prevail to share a brand new sunrise tomorrow. The End Times are upon us, but we _must_ prevail. The sun sets on our blackest night, and yet the Dawn of Hope for all of humanity awaits.

We will resist this adversary. We will fight against the darkness. Terror will vanish in the rays of dawn.

But we will resist _together.._. _E Pluribus Unum_… Out of many, one. The fingers of humanity will close to hold fast to courage, to our gift of life. And to those who fear, we will comfort. To those who despair, we will be their beacon. We _will_ see the sun rise upon our world, darkness destroyed.

To the leaders of the world… there are _no_ countries today. There is only _us_ and that which will destroy us. We may have only one chance to survive, one chance to strike. All action must be coordinated, one single plan of attack. We are the hope of the world and we have precious little time. We must stand united.

To the people of the world… _Hope and Faith_. I ask you to face the _greatest_ challenge… to believe that tomorrow will come. A tomorrow for our children and their children. There are heroes among us, there are heroes beyond the stars. If Evil exists, then so to does Good. If the Devil has come to destroy us, then God may yet save us all.

Hope, Faith and Love. Fill your heart with these. We face an enemy who is the King of Fear, the King of Dread and the King of Hate. These things are _his_ weapons, _his_ strength. Do not give him dominion of your soul. Pray for us and pray for tomorrow. Be with the ones you love as we face the living embodiment of hate.

Our country's motto has never seemed _more_ appropriate than today… In God we trust. And never have we needed His help and guidance more. Perhaps… as we unite our voices as one, He will."

The broadcast ended as Bruce drew a deep breath. He could almost feel the world coming to a halt. He had known about the LexCorp Tachyon Cannon for months now and wanted it in the contingency plan for Trigon. But still, he knew _far_ too little about its capability. On his way back to the war room, he placed another call to Tim who answered immediately.

"Hey Bruce, nice speech. I never took you for the religious type."

"We need _all_ the help we can get, Tim. Have you had a chance to look at the Tachyon Cannon?"

"Yes. It must be _unseasonably_ cold in Hell today, because I've been working with Fritz Hollmann for the last twenty minutes. We can't use the Cannon right away, it's facing the wrong way. I'd better let Fritz explain _this_ one… It's really going to blow your mind. He's on the other line, hold on…"

Bruce watched as another screen opened beside Tim. Fritz Hollmann appeared.

"Mr. Wayne. A most inspiring speech."

"Thank you. Herr Hollmann. Tim tells me the Cannon is pointed into space?"

"Yes, I'm afraid Mr. Luthor had a _very_ elaborate plan for its use. It is aimed to bend around the seven sister stars of the Pleiades and continue back to Earth at a very specific time and place."

"The Pleiades are over 400 light years away..."

"Yes, Mr. Wayne. But this is _faster_ than light. The beam would travel almost one thousand light years, backwards through time to strike a point in history. In six days, the heavens will align and the program _would_ have allowed the Cannon to fire. I have now managed to take it offline…

I will admit to being relieved that Luthor is dead… The possibilities of a shot of that nature are truly terrifying. It is _too_ far…"

"When and where would it strike, Fritz?"

"It would strike on July 21st, 1988 at twenty-one seconds after 11:04 PM. The point of contact would be a field near the small town of Smallville, Kansas. I believe this was the boyhood home of Lex Luthor…"

In Bruce's mind, the words from Lex Luthor burst forth like an epiphany as _all_ was revealed… The totality of Lex's madness summed up in the madman's answer to his question…

_'And that is where humanity fails, Mr. Wayne... Death does not care about our point of view or beliefs or if we are good... It only cares __**if we shoot first**__...' _

Luthor was going to shoot first... The Tachyon Cannon had been built to kill the aliens and save his father at _any_ cost. The madness that had warped his life from a summer night thirty-three years ago – which made him immune from the consequences of any future actions because they didn't matter… The intellect sociopath who saw this reality only as an obstacle in setting right the events of that terrible night... To Luthor, this world had only been a work of fiction… He would dictate his own history.

But would Bruce have done such a thing to save the lives of his parents? _Could_ he do the same thing? He now had the means… But would he place a shot twenty years into the past if it meant that Thomas and Martha Wayne - along with six thousand other Gothamites - would be spared from two Boeing 767's crashing into Gotham towers?...

No.

With Raven now in his life, he _knew_ that was the ultimate answer. He could never do it. He shut out the tragic events of only days ago… Richard would not have wanted the fabric of reality risked for his life. He found the ability to speak again.

"Oh Dear God… But the _variables_, Hollmann! A shot of that immense distance, one tiny miscalculation, the _causality_…"

"Oh, space is _very_ predictable, Mr. Wayne. Even the ancient Greeks had an advanced understanding of the movement of the planets and stars. With today's astronomy, quantum physics and software, we were easily able to plot the beam's flight path through space and the past. An unobstructed shot through time, wrapping around the constellation of Taurus to strike thirty-three years into the past. Unbelievable, isn't it?

But you're correct regarding the causality, Mr. Wayne. Whatever Luthor sought to achieve, how _would_ if affect events thirty-three years in the future? How many alternate universes would be created in such an ambitious gamble? How many streams would siphon the stream of time?

Would I have married my wife Elsie? Would you have met your wife, Mr. Wayne? How many worlds does God allow under His sky? At what point does He simply turn off the lights on existence to begin anew?"

"I didn't know you were religious, Herr Hollmann."

"A by-product of growing up in Argentina. Unavoidable, I'm afraid… But this is technology that is _untested_, Wayne. Its effects unmeasured and vaguely hypothetical. Who's to say what could happen when man rewrites the past… Scientifically fascinating, but is the answer worth the price of the knowing?"

"Indeed… But it may be our only chance for survival. If we were to aim it directly at Trigon, how far back would it strike in time?"

"At current speed, a direct strike from space to the surface of the Earth would occur less than one hundredth of second in the past, Mr. Wayne. It would be similar to any other laser cannon, practically instantaneous to human observation."

"We need more time. He'll see it coming."

"It's tricky, but we could possibly bend it around our sun to perhaps give you four seconds, Mr. Wayne."

"The future of the world may count on those four seconds, Herr Hollmann."

"I will begin the calculations immediately with your protégé. May God forgive us for usurping His power..."

"Fritz… I want you to know… _If_ we survive, I will do all in my power to clear your name from the deeds of your grandfather."

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I'm afraid my family has a trait where we are too easily blinded in the glories of science at the behest of evil men. Merchants of death such as ourselves must seek divine redemption through humility."

With that, Hollmann's screen disappeared as the German winked, but Tim stayed on.

"Bruce, do you know where Barbara is?... Everyone keeps asking."

"She's with my wife, Raven. They're getting… _more_ help."

"That hot, little European number with the purple eyes at the funeral? That's your _wife_?!"

With the unplanned events at the funeral this morning, Bruce never had a chance to introduce his wife to his senior staff. He had certainly meant to.

"Yes, I wanted to introduce you to her this morning. She's not European though. She's from another dimension and she's also the best chance we have against the demon Trigon."

"Whoa, seriously from another dimension?! _And_ hot! I am _totally_ getting nerd wood. Does she have a sister?..."

"…_Good-bye_, Tim. Keep me updated."

Bruce prayed to _all_ that was holy that his wife was successful in her mission and would make it back in time. The entire world was counting on her. And he was positive her self-image would be _very_ much improved after meeting Tim Drake and the emotions he would project...


	92. Chapter 92

**XCII  
Damned**

As Bruce Wayne opened the door to the new war room, he was greeted with a cacophony of passionate conversations, many of the generals in heated discussions with their foreign counterparts. It was evident that they had been busy during his first public speech as an acting president and were now trying to get the world onside with his plan. He pulled aside a few who were not in conversation and stepped back into the relative quiet of the hallway.

"I need a status update. Where are we the other countries? Give me the problem ones first…"

"…China is refusing to answer our calls, sir. Their battleships are marshaling in the South China Sea. We believe they are preparing a nuclear strike."

" …Russia is also preparing a nuclear option. However, they have assured us they will not strike unless directly threatened."

"The United Arab Emirates are mobilizing their air force… We believe they will launch within an hour."

Another general stuck his head out the door, a look of panic on his face…

"… Sir! We have confirmation!…Bialya now has fighters in the sky over Kahndaq! Their leaders are not responding…"

"Do we have visuals? Are they attacking Big Red?!"

"Hold on, I'll open my screen…Bringing up visuals now… They have already engaged the smaller demons closest to their border, but there seems to be another squadron flying directly towards Big Red, sir."

"Damn it… Is there any way to stop them?"

"… _Not in time_."

Bruce breathed a heavy sigh. It was obvious he was not going to be able to prevent _all_ nations from launching an attack against Trigon. He needed to get a hold of President Rashid before the entire world paid the consequences.

"General, get Bialya back on the line. Tell them this President needs to talk to President Rashid _immediately_."

"Yes, sir."

It took two minutes of demands, threats and being passed along to various underlings but Bruce was finally able to get Rashid on the screen…

"Mr. President, you're making a _grave_ mistake. You are placing the world at risk. Do _not_ attack that large, red demon."

"…You are not Luthor."

"Lex Luthor is dead. I'm the new acting President, Bruce Wayne."

"Lex Luthor gave the Kahndaqi a nuclear weapon which he exploded upon their soil… before he could move it onto ours. Lex Luthor then killed every man, woman and child in Kahndaq, even their _dogs_ lie dead in the streets. All because that fool Muhannad listened to Luthor. And now the Americans have brought Satan to my border and you ask me _not_ to defend myself?..."

"Yes, Mr. President. I'm asking you to join the world for when we launch one _final_ attack upon this threat. Provoking him now will mean certain death."

"Only Allah holds that power, Bruce Wayne. That is Who dictates the laws of Bialya, not Americans and not the Prince of Devils."

"Rashid… We fight the enemy of _man_. Give us time to join your troops against the Adversary. We are mobilizing our fleet…"

"It is too late, Bruce Wayne. Even now my F-22's have deployed their missiles. Satan will not find us a willing victim…"

With Rashid still on his screen, Bruce carried the glimmering hologram across the threshold, stepping inside a much quieter war room. All eyes were now glued to the large 'Trigon-screen' at the front of the room while other screens displayed the Bialyan squadron as icons over Kahndaq. Everyone was now aware of the situation. President Rashid continued confidently as everyone stood transfixed…

"…We will not submit to the Evil One. We will _not_ ally with a Nation of Lies. Bear witness to our _vict_…"

President Rashid disappeared.

The digital icons of a squadron of F-22's disappeared.

No missiles struck Trigon.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce caught Trigon make a back-handed motion in the air, as if inadvertently brushing aside an annoying fly, when Rashid disappeared.

The room stood instantly silent…

And then the four fiery eyes of Trigon stared _through_ the wi-screen directly at Bruce, who could feel the glare of doom upon him, the same cold, grip of dread as before…

The bane of existence _spoke_.

In an echoing voice heard around the world, magically translated into words seven billion people could understand, the demon's powerful voice cast itself simultaneously around the globe, causing the world to stand still and take heed as every human listened to the words of Trigon.

"People of Earth… I am Trigon the Terrible, a stranger upon your shores. As much as I enjoy painting your moon, you need not sacrifice yourselves so _willingly_. If Trigon were but only to _will_ it, before even a mother's tears could leave her eyes, all life upon this planet would perish.

Further attacks upon me will only result in your death. I am a power your paltry race could not _dare_ to imagine possible. I have destroyed _countless_ worlds, much greater than your own. And with each world destroyed, I have _grown_ in power…

But I am not here to destroy… I am here only to take back what is _mine_. My daughter… my lovely Raven was stolen from me. Stolen by a _man_… A man who believed he could take from a god and not face its wrath. Stolen by Bruce Wayne.

Give my daughter, the cow-of-a-woman who birthed her, and this foolish mortal back to me by the time your sun's first rays shine upon these sands and Trigon _may_ spare your lives. My daughter Raven, her mother Arella, and the man who _dared_ to take her… Bruce Wayne. The fates of three lives versus seven billion. Surely these terms are reasonable. I await your answer, people of Earth. Weigh your choice carefully."

Without anyone touching it, the wi-screen of Trigon blinked and closed. Every pair of eyes in the room slowly turned to Bruce Wayne, some accusingly, some with cold calculation, and others with pity. By the gravity in those stares, he knew he would be delivered to Trigon. Bruce immediately addressed the crowd.

"Book me the fastest flight we have. I'll answer him _personally_."

"… Sir, you said the cavalry is on its way, correct? There's still time."

"I want to be there when they arrive. I'll be leading this attack from the field."

"Then the Saints be with you, sir."

"Let's hope I get more than just _saints_." Bruce smiled at the men and women who had accepted him, however briefly, as their leader. "Remember the rules of engagement while I'm gone. Oh, and Mr. Okama, did someone manage to locate the antidote for Luthor's truth serum?"

"We did, sir. Talia al Ghul is recovering in the infirmary but will be retained for questioning when she fully recovers. Georgia Sivana is also being detained."

"I would like to take Talia with me."

"Sir, she's a known member of the League of Assassins!"

"Yes she is. But she has some insights that may be useful. We need all the help we can get. Rule number four."

"Yes, sir."

A knock at the door and then a man in a white lab coat entered the war room under military escort. His cheeks were flushed and he was breathless… A government scientist. It was obvious he was panicked.

"I'm sorry… it's the moon…it's _red_."

Bruce could hear the indignation of the crowd, some whispering crude words at this barging scientist who opened up a large screen at the front of the room… in the same place that the one of Trigon had only just been. Bruce raised his hands to quiet the crowd. The scientist spoke.

"…These images you see are from the Hubble telescope. We thought you should all see this… just to _know_." Bruce couldn't be sure, but he thought the man may be crying.

They saw the image of the moon… and it _was_ a muddy, red color, different from any he had ever seen. It looked almost… _supernatural_. And then the man zoomed in closer… and _closer_…

Something was wrong. There was _debris_ on the moon…

The horror of the situation ripped the air from their throats. All at once, they _knew_ where President Rashid and the six-and-a-half million citizens of Bialya had gone…

Countless corpses were sprawled across the surface of the moon, many still dressed in the robes and clothing of the Arabic country. Their bodies looked almost freeze-dried, thin skeletal blue things - all internal fluids had boiled from their desiccated remains in the cold vacuum of space.

It was the frozen globules of their blood that floated highest above them that gave the moon its crimson shade, a floating sanguine canopy that would not conceal the horror below. With a simple flick of his wrist, Trigon had destroyed Bialya for daring to oppose him.

_As much as I enjoy painting your moon_…

From across the world, Bruce _felt_ Trigon smile and fought to hold onto his sanity as he began to comprehend the power that awaited his arrival...


	93. Chapter 93

**XCIII  
Soul Food**

Flying sixty-thousand feet over the Atlantic in a Lockheed Martin SAI Quiet Supersonic Transport jet, Bruce Wayne quietly reflected upon the situation at hand. He understood that Trigon wanted him _alive_… otherwise he wouldn't be. That much was obvious. But why hadn't the demon simply snapped his fingers and made Bruce appear directly before him? Why speak to every human on the planet and try to turn the world against him? Was the demon simply exacting a measure of revenge for his marriage to Raven?

Trigon had made it painfully obvious that Raven's place was by her father's side. Yet he wanted Raven to make that decision _herself_, not to simply force her obedience with his seemingly unlimited power. She would need to sacrifice all that she held within her heart as a right of passage to enter into Trigon's malicious world. By doing so, she would _identify_ with her father and fulfill her father's destiny.

Was that the flaw they needed? That Trigon _wanted_ his daughter to validate his nature by becoming just like him? Or did he simply enjoy corrupting souls and Raven was a new challenge? What exactly did Raven _mean_ to Trigon?...

Trigon's level of power was difficult to comprehend. It was like attempting to combine an infinite series in calculus to a religious doctrine. Was his power one that allowed him to create life, or simply destroy it? Through deception, he had physically sired Raven with Arella, so it was safe to say that his ability to create life was… _limited_. Otherwise, he could have created an army of his own children by will alone.

The Nebu were also pre-existing. He had not created them. He had simply _enlisted_ the soul-eating demons. Another example that Trigon could not create life. And if he had spawned those _things_, Bruce would have hated to have seen the mother…

It was also a fair assumption to believe that Raven shared the traits of her father, _including_ his powers. She was an empath. Trigon was an empath. Except the demon was _much_ more powerful… Able to receive, influence, warp, twist and project emotions across an entire world, or - more likely - dimensions. Gods and demons in mythology had been linked to human emotions throughout history. Did negative emotion fuel Trigon in some way?...

Which brought Bruce to Trigon's _origin_… Raven had said that Azar believed Trigon was a collection of the thousand dark halves of the souls of Azarath. But souls didn't copulate with women to produce such beautiful offspring. Which meant that Trigon was a physical being.

He did _consume_ souls... The one thousand dark halves of the Azarathian souls had no doubt been taken by Trigon, but the demon certainly existed _before_ those spiritual fragments were ever cast through the Great Door of Azarath.

Bruce recalled the old stories of Christ and the Devil and the battle for human souls. Pint-sized demons whispering in one ear and tiny angels at the other, trying to influence the actions of humanity for good or for evil. But unless you were reading the last chapter of the Bible, the Devil wasn't supposed to pop in on the world and instantly send six-and-half-million people to the moon...

Another similarity to Raven… His wife could transport herself and others throughout the span of the Universe. Her father also seemed to have this ability, but again on a _much_ larger scale. Bruce wondered if Trigon had traveled to the moon for a millisecond with all the people of Bialya in tow and simply teleported _only_ himself back. He would have to analyze the video in very slow motion.

And Raven could _hold_ souls… She currently carried the entire spiritual existence of Azarath inside her. Is this what Trigon did with souls as well? Had he found some way to draw power from the souls that he consumed? Did he metabolize them in some way? If Bruce could figure _that_ one out, he would have the key to defeating his incredibly dangerous father-in-law.

For this, he needed Raven's and Azar's expertise on the physics of the soul. Talia may also be able to assist… A quick shudder from the seat across him meant that his recovering guest would be coming to shortly and he would ask her then. The attending physician beside her gave him a thumbs up when monitoring her readings. They had another four hours before arrival and he still had two calls to make before she woke up…

His first call was to Tim and Fritz. They had recalculated the trajectory of the Tachyon Cannon around the sun and had Trigon's every movement instantly uploaded by GPS positioning. They had also coded the discharge signal to the panic button he carried in his cufflink… he could fire when ready. Raven couldn't travel in the past and Bruce prayed that Trigon had no power over the past as well.

The GPS and panic signal travel distance to the satellite knocked half-a-second off the beam's strike time. It would hit Trigon 3.5 seconds into the past. Hopefully that would be long enough. He doubted a simple blast from a Tachyon Cannon would be enough to stop Trigon, but there was the possibility that he could use it as a reset button during the approaching battle.

He then took a moment to call Alfred. There was something he _had_ to say to his oldest and truest friend, something he should have said long ago…

"Master Bruce! How wonderful to hear from you sir… I'm afraid I may be suffering from the onset of mental_ instability_... There was a voice that spoke with an Estuary dialect all throughout the manor an hour ago. And it said it wanted _you_, sir. And Mrs. Wayne, _and_ her mother…"

"That was Trigon, Alfred. He was speaking to everyone on the planet simultaneously. I'm just on my way to meet him. Alfred… I wanted to thank you for everything that you have done for me… over my entire life. I took you for granted _far_ too often. You've always been there and never complained, even when you had every right to do so. I also wanted to thank you for your acceptance of Raven into our home… That really meant a lot to me."

"My _pleasure_, sir. It is true happiness for me to see you with someone you love _and_ who loves you in return with such devotion. And while you both have demons from your past, you support one another to rise above them. I have the utmost faith that the both of you will prevail, Master Bruce."

"Thank you, Alfred. I hope we will."

"Master Bruce… I _also_ have a confession… I wanted you to find out from me before you had a look at the financials… I'm afraid I've leveraged a great deal of our holdings for a twenty-nine million dollar loan…"

"With our current share price, I'm not sure we'll be able to pay that back. I would hate to have to sell the estate."

"That's just it, sir. With Wayne Industries falling so low, I _had_ to save what both your parents and yourself had worked so hard for… _Anyone_ could have bought the company at that ridiculous share price, and I couldn't _bear_ to see that… so I purchased ninety million shares so that you wouldn't lose control of the company bearing your family name. I should have cleared it with you first, sir and I sincerely apologize."

"Alfred, if we survive this, I'm going to kiss you!"

"Thank you sir, but I believe Mrs. Wayne would appreciate that sort of attention _much_ more than I, - but I am happy to see that you approve of our purchase."

"_Very_ happy. You're going to be the richest butler on the planet."

"I said _our_, sir."

"_Your_ purchase… If we survive, I will be retiring as president of Wayne Industries."

"…What shall you do, sir?"

"Lois Lane had a vision. I'd like to see it come to fruition… I think it's time we took our place in the Universe. I'm not sure what the world will look like tomorrow, but I think our eyes will be upon the stars."

"Perhaps our thoughts should first be upon the love of our neighbor, sir..._ Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star_..."

"…_Cummings_?"

"You know me too well, master Bruce."

"And I see your point, old friend. Humanity must come together if we are to finally take our place among the stars. You _truly_ are the best man I know."

"Then you do not know _yourself_, sir. But thank you. And remember, with Mrs. Wayne you are even greater still…"

"_The hope which has no opposite in fear_. I will remember that. See you later, Alfred."

"I shall see you again. Godspeed, master Bruce."

After the call to Alfred, Bruce remembered to eat. The appearance of Alfred _always_ reminded him to eat. Bruce was more the type to be consumed by his latest project than someone who remembered to eat, leaving it to Alfred.

The attendant brought him salmon croquette, southern biscuits with a heaping portion of baked macaroni and cheese. This could be his last chance to eat, cholesterol be damned…

"Mmmnnnn…" Talia was starting to come to.

"Welcome back."

"Bruce?... that smells good. I think it woke me up…" Bruce signaled the attendant for another serving of his dish and water for Talia. It was strange to think that at the end of the world, they would be having soul food.

"How are you feeling, Talia?"

"Fuzzy… And _pleased_ that I was able to save my body. Georgia Sivana is not a pretty sight on the inside either."

"She's been retained at the Pentagon. We're on a flight to Kahndaq. Trigon has _requested_ my presence."

"I thought that was a dream… I'm worried about my father, Bruce. I believe Trigon was only using him to gain access to this world."

"That makes two of us. Trigon tried to use me and _almost_ succeeded. Raven helped me so that I didn't initiate the engine of destruction upon Kahndaq, but I believe the League of Assassins was the back-up plan if I did not."

"Death has always been their plan."

"But I assume it's _controlled_ death. Surely your father does not want to wipe out the entire human population?"

"No. My father plans for a world where only his followers survive. To build a new Eden… The League is _much_ more than just assassins… It is scientists, doctors, farmers and some of the most powerful people in the world. One hundred and forty-four thousand members." Talia was grateful for the water that arrived from the attendant.

"And Trigon was the means to that end?"

"He believed so. He had learned of the fallen angel who had visited the Earth in your city near the turn of the millennium and based his research upon that. He believes that was when Raven was conceived. She appears about twenty-one…"

"Yes, she was. Her pregnant mother was transported to the extra-dimensional real of Azarath where Raven was born and raised, learning to embrace her human side and control her demon nature."

"How strange… Azarath was my father's kingdom from one thousand years ago. His wife Zara, bearing his child, transported all the lands and peoples to another dimension to walk in the ways of peace. My father was left behind so Zara's authority would be unquestioned."

"I am not familiar with Zara…"

"You know her by another name… The name she took from the birth of their child… Azar."

"… That would make Ra's one thousand years old."

"His _spirit_ is that old. A consciousness untouched by the Stygian waters of the afterlife retaining all memories and emotions."

"I need to ask you, Talia… What do you know about Trigon? Do you know what he does with the souls he consumes?"

"Very little. It is my father's astral form that had to travel beyond the soul barrier to commune with the dark angel... I am sorry Bruce Wayne, I know nothing certain of the entity we face."

"You do not need to face Trigon, Talia."

"Then I need to face my father. I should have done this long ago."

"He has taken a new body… The Kryptonian, Big Blue. I would like to get the original owner back into that body as soon as possible. He will be an ally against Trigon."

"I will do what I can…"

Talia's food arrived. Bruce had no idea if Talia would be able to sway her father - the powerful Ra's al Ghul - but they needed all the help in the Universe.

Again, he thought of his wife…

**Next Chapter:** Trigon's true origin revealed! Don't miss it!


	94. Chapter 94

**Author's Notes:**

Originally created by Jack Kirby in 1971, the _Black Racer_ is the avatar of Death for the New Gods, whose touch sends their essence back to the Source. No one can outrun him and he comes for all the New Gods when they are about to perish.

In old Norse mythology, _Yggdrasil _is the immense tree connecting the nine worlds, attended to by the three Norns (Fates).

* * *

**XCIV  
Yggdrasil**

On a field in Elysium, Barbara stared in horror-tinged disbelief at the returned Raven…

"He wants _you_?!..." It took Raven a moment to piece together that Barbara had misunderstood her exact meaning.

"Yes… To rule by his side as his _daughter_, Barbara... And to kill everyone I love so that I may embrace him."

"Again, _ewww_… And I am so sorry, Raven. I have no idea how that must feel."

"We do not choose our mothers and fathers, but we can choose our actions. I will _never_ sacrifice the people I care for to appease a father who cares _nothing_ for who I am."

"I can see now why Bruce married you… You two are more alike than I even thought possible. Speaking of, how is he?"

"… He is _alive_. Lex Luthor is dead and Bruce has now become the acting President. He urges the forces of Earth to rally as a unified resistance against Trigon and urges us not to delay with any assistance."

"We have all the time in the world here in Elysium. We should plan this _carefully_…"

"_You_ may have time Barbara Gordon, but Scott Free does _not_. Behold the dark figure rising beyond the crest of that hill…"

They all looked at the grassy knoll where Raven indicated, perhaps three hundred yards in the wind-swept distance. Highlighted against the blue sky there _was_ a dark man, dressed in strange garb who was _no_ spirit. In each hand he held a pole and moved without walking… _gliding _towards them. Pushing against the stream of time, the dark figure of death made his way towards Scott.

"_NOOOO!" _Barda's scream pierced the quiet still of Elysium as she stood between Scott and the far, impending figure of omen. "The Black Racer will _not_ take him!"

"_Barda_," From behind her, Raven placed a reassuring hand on the large woman's shoulder, "we must leave now. Let us travel to the edges of the Promethean Galaxy while there is still time and plead with the Highfather for the life of his only son."

"I will drag Izaya here _myself_ if I have to. Take us, traveler. I am ready."

"Hold my hand and don't let go. We travel to the ends of the Universe."

The familiar black smoke arose as Raven and Barda disappeared in the Cosmos. As the dark plumes dissipated, Barbara's clear blue eyes were still fixed on the ominous figure as he inched steadily forward, his own gaze locked upon the dying New God.

Scott's life was in the hands of the Gods now…

Into the unknown blackness of the Universe, Raven traveled farther and faster than she ever had. She blazed past stars where demons feared to tread, then past the tears of lost angels abandoned, towards the very _origin_ itself.

The empty blackness of space rippled and became the Sea of Oblivion beneath her… becoming colder and colder as she streaked across empty immeasurable distance. Oblivion's waves soon became cascading ice beyond the light of stars as she entered a dimension of frozen solitude with an eternal sky. In her soul, she felt the hatred of forgotten ages unmoving beneath its glacial core, frozen in time.

Past the perpetual icescape she became engulfed by fogs and mists... All direction was lost to the cold miasma now surrounding the pair, stealing all sense and reason. These were the cold mists of Oblivion.

Raven sensed and followed the faint traces of love and hope in the land beyond, allowing it to become her beacon in this numbing pall of despair. There was only one path to escape the Eternal Fog and she prayed this was it. The god beside her wept, Barda's fears of lost-love overwhelming in sorrow's mists.

"It's alright, Barda... There is a way out."

"These cold mists bead against my warrior's countenance… _Hurry_, girl."

The beacon of hope had not led her astray…The mists broke to reveal the totality of life, a sight beyond anything Raven could ever have imagined.

Thousands of miles before them was what Raven could only describe as the largest _tree_ in existence. Had they not emerged from the fog so far away, Raven was not sure she would have realized it was even a tree at all. Perhaps a brown planet below a green nebula.

But it _was_ a tree!

A tree at the very center of the Universe, upon an island composed of the sands of time with massive roots spread into the Sea of Oblivion. As impressive a sight as it was, it was the emotion and power that held Raven in a rapture.

Power flowed through her from the brilliant doorway composed of a thousand stars suspended above this mighty tree… the sum of all things combined. Through that doorway lay eternal knowledge and the power to create all existence _itself_. Even the great tree's branches sought the light as a seedling seeks the sun.

She had never beheld such a _light_, or felt such a _power_ as the fiery rectangular supremacy of light that beamed within her, through her, beyond her. It was understanding, knowledge, consciousness, order, the very power of life!...

It was all that Azarath had stripped its soul bare for so many years ago. A tiny spark now reunited with the sun. The entirety of the civilization within her soul _rejoiced_… before them was the divine presence of their very essence!

"Ye Gods, Girl. You've taken us to the Source _itself_…" Barda's voice was barely a whisper, lost before the majesty of the power shining all around them. Emotions crackled in the air around, a million stories inhaled with every breath.

"I was guided here, Barda. That is the… _Source_?"

"Aye. The Source of Creation itself. Gods, men, stars… The source of all consciousness and light. That a simple god as myself should ever gaze upon its eternal glory… It is too much."

"You are welcome here, Barda of Apokolips."

Before them was a _giant_ woman, at least three times the height of Barda with long, flowing hair of white flaxen gold cascading down past her waist. She carried an ancient jar as large as Raven which she dipped into the Sea of Oblivion, allowing its waters to fill the emptiness before effortlessly lifting it upon her shoulder.

"_Come_. There are things we must discuss." She turned and walked barefooted upon the waters, back towards the tree. Each step seemed to carry her fathoms across the sea. Raven had no choice but to follow…

Perhaps it was a lifetime of study suddenly remembered, or that _all_ was revealed in the shining light of the Source, but in an epiphany, Raven realized who it was that they now followed...

"By the Mother! You are the _Weaver_!" The giantess turned back to reply.

"I have many names, Mistress. I am but one of the Three Fates, the Norns. You may call me Urd… It is the great tree _Yggdrasil _before you which is Fate's _true_ weaver. My sisters and I are but humble caretakers."

"The _Fates_…" Barda's mind spiraled into a land devoid of structured thought, adrift in dancing catatonia with the sudden possibilities and ramifications. The Gods _themselves_ were not beyond the domain of the Three. And the _Source_…

"And we are your humble charges," replied Raven. "Thank you for your guidance and for accepting us into this holiest of creation."

"Your fate is of the iron thread, Raven Wayne. But you may become _greater_ still. I did not name you Mistress lightly… Indeed, it is only a single word away that you should become _our_ mistress. Come, let us talk with my sisters."

"There is a life we endeavor to save, wise Urd. Time is short."

"It is a life we will endeavor to save as well, my Lady."

"These are happy words. You have moved my strong companion beyond words."

Urd only smiled. Upon the shore were two other women of similar stature whom Raven could only assume were Verdandi and Skuld. Urd appeared to be the eldest while Skuld was the youngest. Raven was in the presence of a power greater than any she had ever known, and she had stood before Trigon _himself_.

"The true Princess of Apokolips," spoke Verdandi bowing her head at the two visitors. "We welcome you."

"… I am not a _Princess_." Barda regained her senses only long enough to become confused by the words of this formal greeting.

"You are a Princess of New Genesis by _marriage_, Barda Free. Beside you stands the true Princess of Apokolips by _birth_. Princesses of dark hair and loving hearts both of you. But the Iron Thread of Fate runs through young Raven. And now, the path of creation is being foretold in her future…"

"I am of Azarath, my Lady. Demon-sired and born of human mother. I am not from Apokolips."

"Your father is a Prince of Apokolips, Raven Wayne… You will realize this in time." It was Skuld who answered her now. "But let us talk of your future."

"My future, my Lady?"

"_Our_ future, Mistress. Far above us in the Great Tree, an ancient branch has withered and died. Once, it was perhaps the greatest branch of Yggdrasil itself, reaching across the edge of night to caress the Source itself. But the branch has allowed itself to die and fall so that another branch from the farthest reaches may grow in its place. A branch with the iron thread…"

"That my thread should be even tree sap in such a splendor as _this_ is beyond mortal understanding."

"And yet it is so much more… Only the iron thread may grow so tall in the presence of the Source's burning light, yet only the soft sap of Love may bend the bough to spread its shade below, to shelter the tree. An iron thread _will_ take the place of the fallen branch…" Skuld lowered herself onto her knees so that she could now look at Raven eye-to-eye. "And we pray that it is _you_."

"I… I shall serve you however I may, Great Mothers."

"If this destiny is to pass, you may command us." Verdandi again.

"No… I could not. I would not. To command fate is to destroy the natural order."

"You are wise and you are good." It was Urd who spoke once more. "Go with our love, Mistress. We shall meet again and discuss these things further."

Skuld gently took Raven's small hands… "Obey your father's _last_ wish. Only by this filial duty will the black soul of Nidhogg finally find peace in the waters beyond, the brother's sin cleansed by its waters. You will know what to do when the time comes."

"Depart with Fates' blessings, Princesses of the Gods. Save the life of Scott Free so that the Great Tree may prosper in the Universe."

With a wave of her hand, Verdandi waved farewell to the strangers as they traveled through a rainbow of light, beyond the Source and into the very throne room of New Genesis…

* * *

**Guest Notes:**

The author is _very_ pleased to welcome a _special_ guest star who is well-suited to help explain recent events… Coming all the way from the Anime/Manga section of FanFic, please extend your warmest greetings to the Goddess of the Present…

**Belldandy!**

"Thank you, _mina-san_! I promise to do my best. What a strange twist of events that Raven and Barda should journey to the Great Tree itself! And they even met my mythic namesake, Verdandi! I assume she's the pretty one. My sisters Urd and Skuld seemed _much_ less mischievous than where I'm from...

But back to the task at hand… _Ahem_…

You may have noticed various references to the Great Ocean throughout this story, terms such as the Sea of Oblivion, the Nun, The Seas of the Styx and so forth. The founder of analytical psychology Carl Jung referred to a _Collective Unconscious_, which others have likened to the black tides which surround the islands of our _Personal_ _Unconsciousness_, or our spirit.

In this story, when the personal unconsciousness, or _essence_ of an individual, is submerged into these waters, it is dissolved. A million collected memories, emotions and dreams become eroded into tiny atoms, like what happened to Teth-Adam's lover Isis when she hurled herself into the waters of the Nun.

But do not despair! These soul-fragments are reborn! Carried by this infinite ocean to the Great Tree Yggdrasil, where it draws upon them to grow and create new life and weave the threads of Fate up through its sap and into mighty branches. It is the power of the Source which draws the essence of souls back to itself through the world tree. An everlasting cycle of spiritual decomposition and rebirth.

The dimension of ice and mist that Raven and Barda crossed before coming upon Yggdrasil was Nivlheim. In this vast wasteland, the souls of evil are frozen in the waters until their ways are forgotten or the fiery demons of Muspelheim liberate them as mists.

And I must admit that I am _very_ eager to learn more of Raven's origin. A Princess of the war-world Apokolips! And will they save Scott in time? I _do_ hope so. I don't like it when characters die in FanFics… I find it most depressing… In my manga, no one ever dies…

_Oh_… the author tells me my time is running short… Thank you so much for allowing me this rare opportunity to explain Norse mythology and the mythical metaphors the author is using throughout _Elsewhere_. Comics and mythology have so much in common.

_Personally_, I would find a 'Batman/Oh! My Goddess' crossover most entertaining! The blossoming romance of an athletic, crime-fighting Gotham U student who makes a wish with a certain Goddess of the Present… building funny snowmen on the mean streets of Gotham…. _Sigh_….

Five seconds?! _Gomennasai_!

Remember to stop by the _Oh! My Goddess_ section of FanFic! _Sayonara mina-san_!"


	95. Chapter 95

**XCV  
A Congregation of Hope**

The co-pilot of the Lockheed Martin SAI Quiet Supersonic Transport jet came back to update Bruce after Talia had finished with her meal…

"The armored transport has been arranged for you at the destination, sir. There's a lot of turbulence in the air over Kahndaq, but we're pretty sure we can put her down close."

"All five are ready?"

"Yes, sir."

Wayne nodded to the co-pilot as he headed back to the cabin. There wasn't much time to gather the troops, but he was certainly doing what he could. He had arranged five tank squadrons to transport him to Trigon.

He would feel much better as a passenger inside one of seventy M1A1 Abrams tanks than he would strolling alone across a cold desert filled with soul-hungry demons. If conventional weapons truly worked on the Nebu, they were in for a rude awakening.

Wayne was starting to analyze the plan of the attack sequence once more when a call came in from General Johnson. Bruce smiled as he answered…

"Tyrexius! How goes the battle?"

"…Better. The bodies on the moon made the international news an hour ago. We don't need to make calls anymore, they're calling us… Everyone is taking this 'Big Red' threat _very_ seriously. I just wanted to let you know that if this situation goes south, there's not much we'll be able to do to prevent a full-scale nuclear attack on Kahndaq. Everyone will be ready to shell Kahndaq but they've made it clear they've got their finger on the hot button."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that… How's the country holding up?"

"Haven't you seen the news?"

"No, I've been working on my arrival delegation."

"Open another screen and have a look at the Pentagon…"

Bruce opened another screen and did a quick search for the Pentagon. The coverage that he saw _amazed_ him… Night had fallen in Washington, D.C. but for miles surrounding the Pentagon, tens of thousands of people stood facing all five sides of the historic military building. Some prayed, some held hands, some held candles, some held signs and others held one another. It was not a protest, it was not a rally, this was a congregation.

A newscaster spoke of an amazing show of support from the American people for this brave, new President. She spoke of the need to remain calm and to help one another.

"How many people are there, Tyrexius?"

"Last count had it at ninety thousand, Mr. President. And it's growing every minute. Traffic around the Pentagon has stopped for miles."

"… I've got to talk to them, General."

"We can broadcast a video from the jet to the media room, sir. It would be on the air in minutes. Everyone in the world seems to be holding their breath, waiting for you…"

"I've got a better idea… Talk to you later, General."

Bruce Wayne ended the call and opened a wi-screen program. Any user could draw a square in the air with their finger and place their thumb in it. For safety reasons, Wayne Communications had always limited the size of these screens to nine square feet. But Bruce could do one _better_… He could program and open screens to any location of _any_ size. He programmed five new square-shaped wi-screens, each side nine-hundred-and-twenty-one feet across, which happened to be the exact length of a wall of the Pentagon.

Calculating the necessary volume controls for a projection of this magnitude, Bruce constructed a screen above each of the five sides of the Pentagon, their top edges sprawling more than three hundred yards above the ground. With now over four million square feet to address the crowds, he could do this properly…

The acting President's face appeared on all five 60-storey tall screens positioned above the roof of the Pentagon. People for miles around could see his gigantic image as he spoke from the evening sky.

"People of America … Thank you… Your support, your acceptance, your hopes and prayers mean _so_ much to me right now. I'm half a world away, but I can still feel your hopes and concerns. There is a tremendous power in your spirits, your combined voices, these hopes and dreams… _never_ forget that. Our country was founded on that power. The common will of the people to make a better tomorrow.

And beyond our shores…We truly live in an amazing world. It's taken something like this to make us realize what we have, what we share, and what we can be. That we're all in this together and we _can_ work together. Countries of the world have coordinated our resistance to this terrible threat. We now stand ready in a show of force never witnessed throughout our history.

Personally, I want _all_ of you to know that my wife and I will do everything in our power to save you. If the demon will accept our surrender to spare you, we will gladly offer it. If the demon seeks to use my wife as a pawn to murder innocents, she will reject him outright without hesitation. If he plans to destroy this world, this world will destroy _him_.

Lastly, please indulge a personal request. I have an _amazing_ wife. Her name is Raven and she _is_ the daughter of that demon, a father she had never met - until now. Even with such a tragic background, she has chosen to embrace her humanity and rise above her dark heritage. She has come to our world for a second chance and chosen the love she has found here among us. She has saved my soul countless times and now she endeavors to save all of ours for no other reason than it is the _right_ thing to do. She is willing to sacrifice herself for her adopted world.

I ask that you include Raven in your hopes and prayers. Because beyond a doubt, she is our greatest hope to see the light of tomorrow. She is our champion of Hope, the bridge to new worlds. And I just wanted to say that I love her very, very much…

What we do now, we do for good… we do for love… And we do it for _all_ of us. We must prevail for there is no other choice in this our darkest hour. The sun will rise upon a new dawn because it _must_ and your spirit has shown me how it will be faced, America…

Together.

Let our prayers be for the dawn and a brighter tomorrow and keep hope alive in our hearts through this night."

And his own prayer was that his wife would be successful and arrive in time… That _all_ that was good in the Universe help them now.

The earthly world couldn't save itself from Trigon alone.


	96. Chapter 96

**Author's Note: **Chapter 95 is now up. If you haven't read "_A Congregation of Hope_" already, be sure to go back and read that first. Sorry about all the confusion. I wanted to save Trigon's big reveal for Chapter 100. And if you _have_ read the last chapter, let's proceed to the psychedelic event that is…

* * *

**XCVI  
Penstock!**

Anyone who _knew_ Tim Drake realized that he was not easily _impressed_ when it came to technological feats. The young man often designed circuit boards from a molecular level in his mind during his lunch break. Truthfully, he enjoyed what he did, but few knew how the young man longed for the _wow-factor_ he had lost as a child… like when he was nine and hacked into NASA to submit plans for a lower Earth orbiter. Good times…

Sure, the Tachyon Cannon that shot backwards through time was pretty cool. The fact that his boss was married to a young, really hot, half-demon from another dimension… well, that had actually opened up a _whole_ new life plan for him.

But when Bruce Wayne had engineered five gigantic 60-storey tall wi-screens over the walls of the Pentagon all of which happened to be in front of over one hundred thousand people, that was simply something he could not resist. That had _wow_-potential. That was a _prank_ begging to happen…

Tim placed a call to his favorite Wayne News Net reporter. Like a fool, she answered.

"Hey wonder-kid, I'm a little _busy_ right now…"

"Hey Vicki, you're covering the crowd at the Pentagon, right?"

"Yes. _And_?..."

"Did you see those giant screens that Bruce created?"

"So help me Tim, if you called me _just_ to geek-out over giant wi-screens…"

"You're going to be on them in eight seconds."

"_What_?!... Wait, that's kind of cool, actually…"

"And Vicki, it will only be _your_ cameraman. No one else…"

"What, _wait_!…" She stopped when a giant frantic image of herself suddenly appeared on five megalithic screens in the night-time sky. She resisted the instinctive urge to fix her 300-hundred foot tall hair now on-screen. Oh, he would _pay_…

"Good evening, America. This is Vicki Vale reporting _live_ for Wayne Net News at the Pentagon… And for the handful of people in attendance without screens, my technical team has decided to broadcast my live feed to the _very_ large wi-screens hovering once again above the Pentagon which had only recently displayed the President's address. The marvels of modern technology, will they ever _cease_?...

I'm here now with an incredibly diverse and compassionate crowd. Some are here to pray, some to offer support for the newly appointed President, and others just to be with other people in what _could_ be our last night on Earth."

As she walked by the crowd, everyone mugged to the camera. They held their signs higher, cheered raucously, made peace signs or even continued silently in prayer. People seemed genuinely thrilled to be on the big screens. To have their moment of fame in a world that too often forgot them.

"I'd like to get a little crowd reaction if I could… Ma'am, I see you're holding up a picture of a fine-looking young man. What brought you here tonight?"

"…My son, Vicki. Captain Thomas Bradley of the First Armored Division. He's over there right now waiting for the President's arrival. I just wanted to say how much we love you, Tom. Bring him back alive, son…"

"There's a lot of military moms and dads here tonight, and we all wish our fighting forces the best. I'd like to thank all of them personally if I could… And you sir, why are you here tonight?"

"Hi Vicki… Y'know, until four hours ago, I wasn't even religious. Now, I'm trying to find God and ask His help. It's like the President said… with enough voices raised, maybe Someone _out there_ will hear us…"

"_God help us_… I think _a lot_ of people are thinking that tonight. Thank you, sir. I'm just going to walk over here to another section of people… _Phew_… That's an odor I haven't smelled since college… _Cough_…Excuse me sir, is that medicinal marijuana you're smoking?"

"Wha'?... Oh no, this is purely _recreational_. If I'm going down, I'm going down _stoned_!" There was a loud cheer from the surrounding crowd who also seemed to be of the same mindset. "But seriously, I can _feel_ the love here. Y'know, it's a totally beautiful thing. I've got nothin' but love for the President. The baddest thing on the planet just called him out and he hopped on a plane. No nukes, just _mano-a-mano_. Badass! I think it's _totally_ cool he married the devil's daughter…"

"Thank you, sir. This particular section reminds me of Woodstock without the musical acts…" A shirtless man ran in front of her, arms raised and yelled to the camera…

"It's _Penstock_, man!" Another large cheer from the crowd. Vicki moved on to a tall African American lady in a less _chemically-intense_ area of the crowd.

"And you ma'am, what brings you here tonight?"

"Support for our troops. Support for our government. And remembering Lois Lane."

"That brings up an interesting parallel… Recent events have shown that Lois Lane was in a relationship with the extra-terrestrial known as Big Blue and now Bruce Wayne has admitted to being married to a half-demon. Two presidents who have tested _other_ waters, so to speak. What's your opinion on human/non-human relations?"

"Well Vicki, I'm recently divorced, but I was married to a white man for five years. It didn't work out, but if anyone had told me that I couldn't love him because of his color, I would tell them they're wrong. We just can't help who we fall in love with."

"No, I suppose we can't. I suppose the important thing is that we _do_ love. Thank you ma'am. And you Madam?... What brings you here?"

"It's Donner… Eve Donner. I'm just waiting for a friend, Miss Vale."

"Nothing else, Miss Donner?"

"No, just a friend. I've been waiting for a long time."

"I see, does your friend have a name?"

"Orion."

"Is he Irish?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, good luck, I hope he finds you in this crowd."

"He will."

"Wonderful… Moving along, I'd like to get some comments from some of the various religious groups here tonight. I must say that it is _wonderful_ to see so many different denominations, side-by-side, united in a single cause, working together…"

Vicki Vale continued to talk to people throughout the night, letting them voice their thoughts, their hopes, their beliefs to the crowd. There _was_ love here. They were scared, but they were reaching out to one another. Bruce may never have known it, but he had inspired them to take solace in one another.

They watched themselves on the large screens, and cheered when a young man went on bended knee to propose to his girlfriend. He was going to do it next weekend, but figured he may not get the chance. She said that tonight was just fine and yes, a hundred times yes. And was there a minister in the crowd?...

They called their kids and their parents to tell them they loved them and to show them this amazing, crazy crowd and told them they wished they were here with them on this night the world would never forget. They sang old Beatles songs and a chorus of 'God Bless America'. They waved flags, shared wine, held one another and watched the stars in the sky above...

And Tim Drake leaned back in his chair at Wayne Communications and smiled.

"Well done, Miss Vale… Well done."


	97. Chapter 97

**Author's Notes:**

**Jack Kirby's Fourth World 101**

There are many who consider Jack Kirby's _magnum opus_ to be the New Gods saga, a project which he created, wrote and penciled, an _astounding_ amount of creative control in comics back in those days. Many comic scholars have surmised that Kirby's previous work on _The Mighty Thor_ at Marvel may have been the preceding world, that Apokolips and New Genesis were two halves of the realm of the gods - _Asgard_ of Norse mythology - split into two after Ragnarok…

_"There came a time when the old gods died! The brave died with the cunning! The noble perished, locked in battle with unleashed evil! It was the last day for them! An ancient era was passing in fiery holocaust!"_

Kirby himself tells us that:

_"On each of the two new worlds, their races had sprung from a survivor of the old! The living atoms of Balduur gave nobility and strength to one! -– And the shadow planet was saturated with the cunning and evil which was once a Sorceress!"_

Fans of Kirby's work with Marvel comics would have been familiar with _Balder the Brave_ and the evil Goddess of Seduction, _Amora_ _the Enchantress_ - both of whom were co-created by Kirby. Unquestionably, similarities are apparent between Izaya the Highfather and the All-Father Odin. Elements of scheming Loki manifest themselves through the nefarious Darkseid.

In the Asgard of Marvel comics, Loki is the son of Laufey, the defeated King of the Frost Giants who is taken and raised by Odin as one of his own. Son-swapping among the gods was apparently widely practiced. Indeed, Izaya's adopted hot-blooded son Orion would seem a more _traditional_ representation of the god of thunder – Thor - who _also_ struggled to control his warrior's spirit in noble Asgard.

However similar, the two mythologies are also unique. Kirby's Fourth World is filled with technological wonders. Gone are the artifacts of magic. Good and Evil in the Fourth World seems to be a choice (however difficult), and not simply a fact. Apokolips has become an industrial Hell ruled by a merciless despot while New Genesis is the gods' Eden. Of course, conflict was inevitable…

As a survivor of World War 2, Kirby had witnessed first-hand the horrors of war which haunted him for the rest of his life. The technical advances, the machinations of death… science and technology had replaced mythology in the world. What need was there of gods when men could end all life on Earth with nuclear weapons or explore the heavens above in space ships?

But Jack Kirby knew that _beyond_ the myths of creation, the gods had always been a parable for the human _heart_. What is evil and _must_ it exist? Are we eternally predisposed to violence or may we rise above it?... "_Are we MADE for war, Izaya?_" This is the first question Avia, the loving wife of Izaya, asks the Inheritor on the first page of The Pact.

It is a question that is soon answered as she is slain by a raiding party from Apokolips. Long after the murder of Avia and countless other tragedies in the following war, the bloodied ruler of New Genesis, Izaya the Inheritor finally bore witness to the high cost of his vengeance. Stumbling upon the Source, he realizes that to continue this war of the Gods will only bring about the destruction of the Universe _itself_ and willingly pledges himself to Peace. Meanwhile, the scheming Darkseid has seized control of Apokolips and now has _larger_ plans than just a meaningless war. He too seeks an end to _open_ hostilities but for much different reasons… The slavery of all sentient beings in the cosmos to his dark designs.

"The Pact" first appeared in _The New Gods_ #7 in 1972. It tells of the creation of the bitter truce between the two god-worlds; New Genesis and Apokolips. In Kirby's "The Pact", Izaya, the newly proclaimed Highfather, gives his infant son (Scott Free) to the _mercies_ of Darkseid's command while the ruler of Apokolips gives his second son, the tormented Orion, to the wisdom and care of Izaya.

So long as the two princes remain in the adopted care of the other world, neither planet will attack. This is the Pact. Darkseid had (_of course_) attempted to manipulate Orion to murder Izaya upon arrival, but his evil plan did not come to pass. Instead, young Orion seeks to understand the peaceful ways of New Genesis and temper his innate war-like nature. There is none on New Genesis who faces a greater internal struggle than the tempestuous Orion.

As you know, my story also involves a _Pact_. But this is a Pact written into Fate _itself_, so that neither Apokolips nor New Genesis will attack or interfere with the destiny of the other so long as Scott Free and Orion live and do not return to their world of birth.

This Pact is written by the Norns into the _very_ threads of fate. It is impossible for Darkseid (or any other citizen of Apokolips) to attack or alter the inherent destiny of New Genesis and visa versa. Fate has forbidden it. However, if Orion were to set foot on Apokolips or Scott Free were to set foot upon New Genesis, the Pact is unwound. Likewise, if either prince were to perish, the Pact is also dissolved.

Life on Apokolips was a living Hell for Scott Free. He was immediately turned over to the orphanages of Granny Goodness, the tyrannical matron of all lost children upon Apokolips. Her sole mission in life was to bend _all_ in her care to blind obedience of their supreme master, Darkseid. Scott Free, the master escapologist, was the only person to escape from one of Granny's orphanages, where he found and fell in love with his future wife Barda, leader of Darkseid's Female Furies.

Although brought up in a paradise compared to Scott Free, early life for Orion was also not easy. "_The Dog of War_" as he was to be called is the mightiest warrior on either world, his soul an atomic furnace of rage and battle lust. It took many years for Orion to tame the passions of chaos that ravaged his soul to live amongst the peace-loving gods of New Genesis. The Mother Box the warrior-god wears devotes itself _continually_ to keeping the conflicted warrior calm.

For although Apokolips may not attack New Genesis, others have not been so inclined… only to find Orion a _very_ willing adversary. The scars of battle and the _inner_ battle Orion wages have disfigured his countenance, a grizzled veteran among the gentiles of New Genesis.

We now return to Raven and Barda who have been guided by the Fates themselves to the hallowed halls of New Genesis…

* * *

**XCVII  
Orion Fights For Earth!**

Barda marveled at how the boundaries of the rainbow tunnel she traversed through space, alongside the mortal woman Raven, reminded her of a Boom Tube. Spectrums of color swirled around them as they finally stepped into the gilded halls of what she assumed _must_ be New Genesis… so different from her own home world of burned Apokolips.

She felt the cold steel comfort of Apokoliptian Armor suddenly embracing her. Gazing upon herself, she saw the blue, yellow and red of her familiar scale mail… _Of course_! In New Genesis the gods did not wear clothing, but rather a reflection of their very essence. And Barda _was_ a warrior…

"My clothes have changed as well..."

Barda gazed upon Raven to find that her clothing had _indeed_ changed. Gone were the sorrowful clothes that she had worn to the funeral, replaced now by an even darker outfit - closer to the one she had donned when they had first met. A deep-blue, hooded cloak secured by two round, golden clasps of polished red sapphire, flowed over a revealing dress of the same blue as the cloak. A belt of circular, red sapphires held by settings of gold also hung upon her lean waist. Long, thigh-high boots shaped to her legs and slender blue arm-mitts which left her fingers bare completed the outfit. Upon those fingers, she wore the same two rings she had worn before, but they seemed almost _luminescent_ in this place. Truly, there was a magic about her…

"Aye, in New Genesis the gods wear their very essence, not the cloth of men. But I did not think this was true for mortals as well."

"Still… I am happy to be in the garb of my native Azarath. A gift of the Norns, perhaps?"

"Perhaps, girl. Let us find Izaya quickly…"

"_He_ has found you…" The bass voice spoke to them only in their minds.

The palatial surroundings seemed to swirl around them, only to spin back into cohesion revealing a different, more opulent room than the one they had been standing in. It was like nothing had ever seen before! Jade statues of Gods levitated high above them, arms raised in the acknowledgement of the greatness of being. A _massive_ tree that could only be an homage to Yggdrasil grew in the center of the open-sky courtyard. Raven could swear that the dark water surrounding it was of the Great Sea itself.

Seated before them on a splendid gilded throne of blue light was a man of regal bearing, his white hair and beard seemed to form a lion's mane around a wise face. He held a shepherd's staff and wore robes of white and blue with sad eyes gazing upon them. Standing by his side were various men, ladies and children in strange, alien outfits who seemed fascinated by the sudden appearance of these two strangers. Children rushed to greet them. Barda dropped to her knees instantly before the older man.

"Glorious Highfather… I have come to beg your divine assistance… Your son lies _dying_, the Black Racer only strides away from claiming his most tragic soul. Please, to save our worlds and the life of the one I love… I beg of you… _save him!_"

The Highfather drew a heavy sigh and replied...

"Barda of Apokolips. I am _aware_ of my son's plight… Our hearts beat as one as they bear a heavy burden this day. But you beg assistance of the _wrong_ father. As Orion is now my son and a son of New Genesis, the one you call Scott Free is now the son of Darkseid and belongs to the war-world. I still hold a father's love in my heart for my first-born, the greatest gift of Avia, but it is written by the Fates _themselves_ that I can _not_ interfere with the lives of those of Apokolips! And nor can you interfere with the fates of those of New Genesis, Barda…"

"Curse the _damned_ Fates! He will die, Izaya!"

"Then beg of your lord Darkseid for assistance."

"…This rebel would sooner _die_, Izaya. She would _welcome_ a return to war."

It was a deep, calm voice who interrupted Barda's unspoken reply. All eyes in the room suddenly beheld the dark figure that had materialized alongside the two strangers, a monstrous form of stone with clothes the hue of Raven's blue. His eyes burned red with the Omega fires, illuminating the divine evil in his stone countenance. All children that had rushed to meet them now ran back to their parents in fear of their lives. Panic gripped the room.

"Darkseid! You _dare!_…"

"…Highfather, please forgive this _holographic_ intrusion. I would never dare to even _dream_ to soil the halls of New Genesis with the charred dirt of my boots… I came only as a concerned _father_… to hear the pleas of this traitorous seductress whose feminine guiles stole my most precious charge from me..."

"_Stole_?! How _dare_ you Darkseid! Scott escaped your evil designs and saved me from a life of mindless slavery!"

"I would dare _less_ if I were you, girl… Do not forget that my Omega beams can find you _wherever_ you run, Barda of Apokolips. Respect your master… But I do not seek to reignite our war, Izaya. Loving Darkseid will _personally_ tend to my wayward son and bring him back to the tender mercies of Granny Goodness…"

"_NOOO_!"

Barda's anguished cry echoed throughout the great chamber as tears began to roll down her eyes. This one, agonizing word prophesized a lifetime of horrors should Darkseid ever claim Scott Free for Apokolips once more…

"My Lords Izaya and Darkseid…" It was Raven who calmly stepped forward, a gentle hand upon Barda's fallen shoulder extending comfort and compassion. "I also come to solicit your assistance. My father, the mighty Trigon, Ravager of Worlds, Scourge of Life, has brought his eternal campaign of death to the shores of my adopted home world, Earth…"

"_Interesting_…This one shines more of the Source than even _you_, Izaya…" Darkseid studied her carefully.

"What is your name, child?"

"Raven, my Lord. Raven Wayne… It was the Fates themselves who sent us here."

The Highfather stood as he addressed the room of his decree…

"Though we may not interfere with the lives of those of Apokolips, the Gods are not above the pleas of men… or women. Raven Wayne… if the Fates themselves have sent you before me, then the gods of New Genesis will rally to your cause…"

"And of Apokolips, Lord Darkseid?" Raven felt the shock of horror from Barda and every _other_ God in the room as she turned to ask this question of the holographic image of terror beside her. The ice in the warrior's glare spread through the hand she still held carefully on Barda's tensely muscled shoulder…

"I too shall attend this matter _personally_, child…" His calculated grin was chillingly evil to her. There was no compassion in the emotions of _those_ eyes, only the gleeful opportunity to sway Fate in his favor as a viper measures its prey.

"Then the Dog of War shall attend _as_ _well_, Darkseid." A muscular man dressed in red and blue stepped forward from the crowd to stare down the dread lord of Apokolips… the only God who even _dared_ to face the eyes of the holographic image. A large silver helmet with a sun insignia stamped into the dome concealed most of this God's face, but his stern mouth was visible and _nothing_ could conceal the death that shone like the noon sun in his eyes. The hologram of Darkseid did not even _bother_ to look at the intrepid New God, disgust his only expression.

"The Fates prevent my retribution for your insolence, Orion… _but_ there shall come a day when the Pact is no more."

"I long for it _deeply_." Now the holographic image of Darkseid _did_ lock eyes with Orion, as father and son engaged in a battle of hatred and murderous wills.

"Please my Lords, our time may be limited." Raven stepped to restrain a _very_ angry Orion. His raging emotional output almost overwhelmed her when she stepped too close to him. He was an inferno of wrath. Darkseid broke the stare.

"Of course, Messenger of the Fates… I shall await your departure, Raven Wayne." With that, the hologram of Darkseid disappeared from the room. There was a collective gasp from the others in the room as the God of Evil departed. So even the Gods themselves knew fear.

"We are _kindred_…"

Orion spoke to Raven as he now approached her, removing his helmet to yet another gasp from the crowd. She instantly saw the scars upon his face which whispered of untold battles and wild hair the color of Barbara Gordon's. The sun from the sky above caught his disheveled locks to make it appear as though the fire from his soul now danced upon his head.

Among the serenity and beauty of the other gods, Orion cared nothing of his disfigurements. He regarded her with a _familiarity_ she found strange. He gently reached across and pulled back the hood to reveal her face, staring deeply into indigo eyes.

"You hide the anger _much_ better than I, little one … but I sense the rage inside of you. The same madness of war. Shall I name you _little sister_?"

"My father is Trigon and my mother Arella. But our challenges _are_ similar, great Orion... Including my struggle with the demon-half inside of me…" Another voice suddenly broke the exchange.

"_Ho_! Ravaged Orion now seeks the comfort of _girls_ to sooth his savage heart?..."

Raven could normally _sense_ the approach of another by their emotions, but she had _no_ prior warning of the instantaneous appearance of the white-garbed stranger who now stood next to them. Had he arrived so _fast_? A barrage of emotions now confronted Raven from the stranger, including… _jealousy_?

Orion turned to smile at the comely God with long hair only a shade lighter his own.

"Only battle may quiet the mighty war drums of _this_ savage heart, friend Lightray. Do not let her pretty face fool you though, the fires of Apokolips burn through her veins."

"Then we may _not_ interfere with her, Orion. It is the will of The Pact."

"But she is not _of_ Apokolips, Lightray. And her world faces a powerful threat that intrigues even unmovable Darkseid."

"If Scott is not saved, there will be no Pact!" Barda had remained quiet long enough and now stood to her full impressive height.

"Ho, so _this_ is the taste of the Crown Prince of New Genesis…" Lightray looked the intimating Barda slowly up and down, taking in every inch of her feminine form scarcely concealed by the Apokoliptian Armor. "In the dark shores of Apokolips, the gentle soul takes harbor in such _strange_ ports…"

"Why _you_!" Barda lurched for Lightray who had suddenly disappeared inches away from her grasp only to materialize behind Orion, hands tight upon the God's shoulders.

"Protect me from this _savage_ Valkyrie, brave Orion!" Lightray was clearly enjoying himself.

"_Enough_!" The Highfather's voice stopped all motion in the Great Hall so that only the leaves falling from the Great Tree at the center of the courtyard moved.

"Noble Raven… I too sense the fires of Apokolips deep within you, but you have done much to tame these flames. You could teach us very much. I fear we have relied far too long upon the mercies of Fate, and upon our Pact… New Genesis has unwisely turned its back upon the conflict and the pain of war, and now we seemed doomed to repeat the lesson. Though it is very little, I fear only bright Orion and his _fool-headed_ lover seem equal to this task…

… As for passionate Barda, I fear there is little I may do to aid her most tragic cause. However, it may be that the Fates wish to see the gentle and noble son of New Genesis see another day… But for now, _approach_ Barda of Apokolips."

Tentatively, Barda began to approach the Highfather… fearing that her outbursts had _offended_ the mighty King of Peace, the God who had fathered the end of the war between their two worlds. She had not shown him proper respect in his High Court, in front of _all_ who were in his charge… She feel to one knee before him.

"Rise, Barda Free."

Izaya, the Highfather reached out powerful arms to _embrace_ Barda. Mighty hands held her until she reluctantly returned his embrace as the tears once _more_ wetted her eyes. Izaya looked into those eyes with great compassion…

"Is it so wrong for a father to greet his new daughter _so_?"

She shuddered and buried her head into his chest… It was more than she could have ever hoped for. The tears would not stop now. She had dared so _much_, the bright, brilliance of love had blinded her to _all_ else in the Universe when Scott had asked her to be his wife… Scott, the Prince of New Genesis, the God of Free Will, sworn enemy to Darkseid... had chosen _her_. Without a care of his heritage or the will of his father, Scott had chosen _her_. Izaya held her head as he spoke.

"I proclaim that you _are_ my daughter, Barda Free. You _are_ a Princess of New Genesis. Let none dispute this and the Fates themselves weave it well. The passion in your heart for battle is exceeded by one thing alone… your _love_. Please, allow a forgetful father to bestow upon you your Wedding gift…"

Barda stood stunned as Izaya reached behind him to retrieve a thing she had only heard of in legend. _The mega rod_! A mighty weapon of the Great Clash, a mother box designed to be used as a weapon, powerful beyond reckoning. The King of New Genesis presented it to her.

"My Lord… It is _too_ much. You have given me so _much_ already…"

"This is but a token of the joy and love you have given my son, brave Barda. It was your powerful love that gave him the means to escape Apokolips. Use the mega rod _well_… not in hate, but to protect the ones you love."

"I shall… _Father_." Tears flowed from her eyes as she spoke the words and accepted the legendary weapon. The mother box united with her essence upon touch, accepting her as its new ally and master.

"Then depart and go with the prayers of New Genesis. Make reckless haste as Darkseid will carefully weigh _all_ options before he embarks. Time is our _only_ advantage. Take heed Orion and Lightray, you face an enemy like none other…"

The scarlet-haired Orion once again placed his strong hand upon Raven's shoulder smiling to his adopted father, and roared a war cry to the humble Gods of the chamber…

"Orion Fights For Earth!"

He then turned his ravaged features and slyly grinned at Raven, "…_little sister_."

* * *

**Another Note:**

Orion and Lightray are _not_ lovers in the comics. They're just good friends. Honest.


	98. Chapter 98

**Author's Notes: **In Greek and Roman Mythology, _Charon_ is the ferryman who carries the souls of the dead across the river Styx and Acheron. '_Charon's obol_' is a term for the coin placed in (or on) the mouth of a dead person before burial to pay for Charon's passage.

* * *

**XCVIII  
The Barbara Gordon Gambit, Part One**

The concern on Barbara Gordon's face was far too obvious as she watched the dark figure in the distance approaching in slow motion. Scott had _some_ time, perhaps as much as an hour, but certainly not as much as she would have liked… Jor-El stood beside her, also watching the Black Racer, his long white hair flowing in the gentle winds of Elysium.

"It's up to your friends now. We can only hope they arrive in time, Barbara Gordon of Earth..."

"Is there anything your Kryptonian technology can do to help him?" She glanced over at Scott, who was still lying still on the fields while a group of spirits had circled around him, realizing perhaps that he was something _more_ than mortal.

"All that survived of Kryptonian technology is this suit I wear, the little suit Jor-El wore, and the suit I built for my wife… which she _never_ wore. Yet it still exists as a shrine to her in this land of the dead. The suits may protect mortal souls… but I would not attempt to move him as he is. The mother box provided by Barda seems to be the only thing giving us these moments... and I would not want to explain to _her_ that we may have been responsible for its malfunction."

"Nor would I... Jor-El, I'm sorry for your wife … And the loss of your world."

"Thank you, Barbara Gordon. When one predicts the end of the world, it's better to be wrong... There is something of you that reminds me of her though, my lovely Lara… you are similar to her when we first we met upon bright Krypton. She had your eyes and your physique, your fierce spirit, _some_ even said she was stubborn…"

"Not to her face, though."

"_Never_ to her face, no. She was strong in all ways." He smiled, remembering his lost love… until the sadness came upon him once more. "To _lose_ her… the loss of my world seemed almost _bearable_… until that time I _knew_ she would no longer stand upon it…"

"Your son, Clark… _Kal-El_… also suffered the loss of a loved one. Her name was Lois Lane... a great leader." Barbara glanced over at the sun spirit called Clark who had also attracted a flock of the brave dead as he hovered in the air, eyes on the horizon.

"Yes… I sense the _unbearable_ sadness in him…" The old Kryptonian sighed. "Fair Barbara Gordon, would you indulge an old father?"

"Perhaps, but I hear I can be _stubborn_."

"My wife _reborn_!" Jor-El winked at her, smiling once more. "But please, it would mean the world to me… to _help_ my son… He was meant for _greater_ things. Too often have I dwelled upon them, an old man's folly… But despair is a powerful foe for any of us when we face it alone. I know this only _too_ well. And if despair takes any of us now, we may never free ourselves from its black grip. Indeed, once one falls, it will grasp for others…"

"Of course, Jor-El… I would be happy to talk with Clark. We could _all_ use a little hope."

The old man's radiant smile which beamed across the gentle air of Elysium was pure, genuine _love_… Barbara should have realized it earlier! Jor-El had been with these spirits for what must have seemed like centuries to him. All of his hopes, his dreams of a lost world… they became carried in his _son_. A son he had an eternity to dream of, to aspire to, but never to see.

Jor-El had told her that there was enough power left in his suit for one more trip to Earth, a place where the gravity was heavy for him and the air was overwhelming. He did not know where his son had disappeared to on the other world of the living. So he had chosen to live with the dead and dreamed of grand adventures for Krypton's greatest son… if only to pass the time. To wait for him. And now, to see him like _this_… Barbara suddenly understood… Clark was truly _everything_ to him.

She walked over to the glowing spirit who hovered five feet off the ground, now watching the Black Racer, lost in his own thoughts.

"Penny for your thoughts…"

"Better make it an obol..." His eyes never moved off the Racer.

"_Obol_?"

"A coin for _Charon_... Sorry, bad joke."

"If we're in Elysium, odds are that the ferryman probably _does_ exist. But we've already made it past the Styx. Or maybe you're just looking for a way back?"

"I am… But do you think I could drive his spirit back out of my body, Barbara?" The shining spirit meant Ra's al Ghul, who had taken over his physical body. Although Clark was a being of _immense_ physical power, she knew he lacked the spiritual strength to overcome a force like Ra's al Ghul.

"By yourself?... _No_… He's had a thousand years of practice."

"I don't like our chances. Ra's will go after Raven immediately. He knows she's the only one who can stop him."

"What about Trigon?"

"I don't think he intends on leaving anyone alive, _except_ Raven."

"I think you're right... Surely Ra's must expect that a monster like Trigon would not spare anyone…"

"He must! It's genocide allowing a demon like that to come to Earth. But how do you have a Plan B for something like Trigon?"

"You _don't_… but... Unborn life!"

The gears in Barbara's mind began to whirl even faster… Clark hadn't been the _only_ one lost in thought moments ago. Barbara had been attempting to piece together the motives of Ra's al Ghul, who seemed far too practical to make deals with Trigon. The League had a plan after all...

"_Sorry_?"

"Clones. Frozen embryos, _whatever_. The seeds of humanity… He could have them stored across the planet. All the League DNA, ready to be reborn to an unpopulated Earth…"

"_Eden_... My God, he was actually _planning_ on Trigon killing everyone!"

"That was his Plan A. Only Ra's needs to survive and then he can take his time raising frozen embryos, or whatever he has stashed away, generation by generation. He probably has a whole infrastructure in place…" In her mind's eye, she envisioned robotic clone factories, ready to jump into production when the world came to an end.

"It makes _sense_... If the League were to instigate a biological threat or nuclear war, what sort of Earth would they inherit? A poisoned Eden... Much easier to have everyone's soul sucked out of them. By the time he had a sizable population, all that would be left of seven billion people would be dried bones."

"He wants a slow rebuild… A re-set on humanity and nature. He's a tricky devil, I'll give him _that_. I believe we're going to have to _outfox_ Mr. Ra's al Ghul."

"_Outfox_ is not a strategy I'm familiar with, Barbara…"

"Luckily, we Wayne employees are _very_ familiar with it. Have a seat on this rock, young grasshopper." She patted the spot on the rock beside where she had seated herself. "I'm beginning to formulate a _plan_…"

Clark floated down beside her to approximate sitting on a rock so as not to materialize within it. Barbara turned to look steadily at him…

"Clark, I want you to understand one thing… You mean _everything_ to your father. He's had centuries to contemplate your role in the fate of your adopted world. You're not _only_ his sole surviving son, but the only surviving son of Krypton… a hero."

"And look at me now." Clark held out his semi-transparent arms in front of him, grimacing.

"We're going to fix that." Barbara smiled at him as the radiant glow from his spirit reflected in her pale blue eyes - like fire on ice. Then she turned serious once more. "But I'm going to have to ask _too much_ of your father…"

"But you said _yourself_ that you don't believe I can force Ra's out of my body."

"You can't. He's going to leave of his own free will." That beautiful and enigmatic Barbara Gordon smile appeared once more.

"But _how_?"

"_Trickery_, my dear Clark, trickery…."

* * *

In the glorious throne temple of New Genesis, Barda and Raven waited impatiently outside of Orion's private chamber. The pair, who had traveled across the Universe itself, watched the New God as he carefully prepared for their journey and battle against Trigon. The tempestuous Barda could hold her tongue no longer…

"I believe the Highfather said _reckless haste_, Orion!"

"Aye Barda, he did. But anxious Orion is like the bride on the eve of her Wedding, quivering in anticipation of the day to come..."

"If noble Orion is the bride!" Lightray suddenly materialized in Orion's chamber, his arms hanging around the massive warrior "then prepare to meet thy _groom_, anxious maiden!"

"Too late by far, friend Lightray. This bride has been wooed by a _different_ shaft …" Barda smirked as she watched Lightray's boastful jaw suddenly drop in profound dissatisfaction.

And then she saw the shaft that Orion _had_ selected from his war chest… it looked like a larger version of her Mega Rod except that it was attached to a war hammer. She had never heard of such a weapon…

"Is that a Mega Rod, Orion?" It was Raven who asked.

"_Like_ a Mega Rod, fair Raven… But I wear my Mother Box upon my person. This shaft is a weapon of New Genesis I had constructed, but only to bear the _true_ prize... From the Old Gods _themselves_! Many years did I search for such a weapon as this mighty hammer…"

"In this age of wonders, glorious Orion would choose a _hammer_ to face the Great Scourge?!" Lightray seemed perplexed.

"Aye, friend Lightray. _And_ the sad, worn gauntlets that lay beside it. The inheritance of a mighty warrior found in one of my _many_ early sojourns into the Wastelands."

"Thou _hast_ heard of cosmic lasers? Impacters? Planetoid bombs?... Even a young Highfather once equipped himself with a power staff…" Lightray was obviously worried for his friend.

"Do not worry so grievously, handsome Lightray." He placed a caring hand upon Lightray's cheek. "It will not serve to have your fair countenance twisted such. Orion leaves to face Destiny with a hammer of _legend_, to forge a new fate for man and god alike. There is power here to tear the skies asunder and vanquish the mightiest foe. Now let us proceed noble friends, battle awaits!"

The warrior of Apokolips did not need to be told twice. Using her Mega Rod, Barda Boom-Tubed herself, Orion, Lightray and Raven back to Elysium… By the Gods, it was _good_ to be able to do that again!

* * *

**More Author's Notes: **The hammer Orion has selected is of course _Mjölnir_ and the old gauntlets are _Járngreipr_. Orion also possesses Thor's magic belt, _Megingjörð_ an artifact which doubles his strength, which he never removes from his person. In Norse mythology, these were Thor's three crucial possessions.

In my AU, Kirby's Fourth World is _indeed_ the remains of Asgard torn asunder by Ragnarok and some of the old gods' possessions are still buried among the ruins of New Genesis and Apokolips. In his early days upon New Genesis, Orion would often scour the planet for artifacts such as these, attempting to learn more of the power and weapons of the Old Gods.


	99. Chapter 99

**XCIX  
The Architect of Death**

The Lockheed Martin QSST jet carrying acting President Bruce Wayne had touched down near the border of Kahndaq with a full two hours of night to spare before the dawn. Now standing upon the dark, warm tarmac outside of the jet, Bruce beheld the impressive dome of illumination created by the headlights of the seventy M1A1 Abrams tanks that he had arranged to carry him to Kahndaq.

Thankful for an uneventful flight where he had worked out a hundred scenarios involving Trigon, Bruce walked towards the tanks only to be surprised when he saw the first of five Army officers lined in a perfect row - waiting for him and saluting.

He had _not_ requested a welcoming committee. Worse yet, on the armored squadrons behind these five were _hundreds_ of soldiers, also perfectly still and saluting. There was no need for so many to risk their lives for _his_ suicide mission. This was supposed to be a _remote_ mission for the Army…

As he approached the first officer, he was shocked to see how much this young man reminded him of Richard. The same age, the same hair, only thicker than Dick's athletic frame…

"At ease, soldier. My orders were for _drone_ tanks, not manned vehicles."

"Sir, yes Sir!"

"Then why are all these tanks filled with treadheads, Captain?"

"My apologies, sir. All remote devices were damaged in transit."

"Damaged? How?"

"They were accidentally run over by tanks… Sir."

"I _see_… We're not fighting a conventional enemy, soldier. There was no need for these soldiers to fight against demons we know nothing about…What's your name, Captain?"

"Captain Thomas Bradley, Sir… And where goes my Commander-In-Chief, so goes the First Armored, Sir!... Even if its to Hell and back. You do _not_ ride alone."

"… I suppose we'll be riding together then. If we encounter resistance from those ugly, tentacle things, feel free to shell them back to Hell. _However_…" Bruce raised his voice so that they could _all_ hear… "No one, and I mean _no one_, is to fire upon Big Red without my direct order."

"Understood, Mr. President…"

"… And what's the tattoo on your arm, Captain?" Bruce couldn't help but notice the ink peaking below the sleeve on the Captain's large bicep.

"It says '_Rock n' Roll Never Dies_' Sir!"

"Isn't rock music passé nowadays, Captain?"

"Not when you're driving 68 tons of American steel… Sir!" Bradley's smile was infectious. As Bruce approached the second Commanding Officer to greet her, he was impressed by her no-nonsense demeanor…

The sudden _impact_ caused them to instinctively duck and cover. Years of training had worked its way into hardened muscle memory. Captain Bradley pushed in front of Bruce, using himself as a shield for the President until they realized exactly _what_ had caused the crash. A man from the sky…

Wide smiles slowly spread across the mouths of the soldiers when they saw _who_ had joined them. At the heart of the unexpected impact, his feet buried six inches into the tarmac, stood Big Blue, the _legend_ of the Forces… Smiling and confident.

But Bruce alone knew it _wasn't_ Big Blue. It was something _much_ worse and a thousand years old…

"At ease, men. I can take the President from here." The new arrival's calm self-assurance put the soldiers at ease - even if Bruce's stomach silently slid beneath his feet. He suspected the consciousness that possessed the man of steel was still trying to master the Kryptonian's flight abilities. Clark would never had landed like that…

Still, there was nothing within a thousand of miles that could harm Ra's al Ghul in this new body, and the madman could _easily_ tear those tanks apart if Bruce were to call his bluff. Heaven help what he would do to the soldiers if threatened…

Their lives were now in immediate danger, but only Bruce Wayne understood that. He could _not_ jeopardize the lives of the men and women surrounding him who had sworn to protect their President. It was a battle they could _not_ win, not against the second most powerful being on the planet. He had no choice but to continue this charade and accompany Ra's…

As the words formed in Bruce's mouth to instruct these soldiers to hold their positions, Big Blue suddenly stopped and _stared_. Quietly, all eyes followed his stare to Talia al Ghul as she exited the jet, her long hair a shimmering ribbon of darkness against the white of the fuselage. Father and daughter took the measure of one another for agonizing seconds. The steely, life-or-death stares of gun fighters facing off in days gone by… She _knew_ him by his eyes…

And then, with speed almost beyond recognition, Big Blue snatched the President - accompanied only by the thundering crack of the sound barrier as he flew like a bullet fired into the night-time sky, his captive helpless to resist.

"NOOOO!" Talia's voice was the last thing Bruce heard before G-induced loss of consciousness blotted out all his awareness.

* * *

Bruce regained consciousness on a high rooftop in a dark city. _Night_… It was still night. But how much time had he lost?!… His eyes strained in the moon-lit dark to find the possessed man of steel staring over the edge of the rooftop into the streets below. Bruce rubbed the side of his head to get the blood flowing once more. Richard had once described the sensation of passing out from G-Force to him after a flight suit trial. It wasn't something Bruce needed to experience ever again…

"...How long was I out, Ra's?"

"Only moments, my friend. My little deception didn't fool you for an instant, did it?… Or perhaps you've been in contact with your _remarkable_ wife…"

"We're _not_ friends."

"Are we not?.. I have done more for you than you shall ever know… Then let us say then that we are _architects.._. Architects of _death_, Mr. Wayne. What I've struggled to accomplish for over a century, you mastered in only twenty years. I am _truly_ in awe of your genius, Sir."

"I am _not_ an architect of death, Ra's…"

"_No_? Then join me… stand _here_ by this ledge, innocent man of Gotham. Step forward but a few yards and stare into the abyss itself to see if dead eyes stare back… Tell me _then_ that you are not an architect of death, Bruce Wayne."

Dear God, the _smell_ hit him then… The awful smell that dissolved all doubt under that _terrible_ stench… that this _was_ Shiruta, the capital city of Kahndaq, filled with the pungent reek of new decay. Bruce knew that over that ledge lay a Hell that would haunt his nightmares for eternity. But like a man hypnotized by the black, soulless eyes of Death, he stumbled to the edge of the building beside his captor to stare down into the Abyss, like Dante into the Inferno. Abandon all hope…

Dead eyes stared back.

_Thousands_ of eyes; men, women, children, goats, dogs… they all stared at him through the darkness in silent judgment. They lined the streets, the alleyways, the archways. They clutched their throats, they embraced their children, silent prayers to Allah frozen upon their lips, in death never finished.

There were be no more good thoughts for Bruce Wayne… The terrifying appetizer that Trigon had allowed him to taste hours ago was now followed by the main course that Ra's had carefully served. This sudden horror overwhelmed him, the crush of his terrible accountability pushed him down so he could no longer stand. He _was_ the architect… the engine of destruction. He could only beg forgiveness of the dead for these sins.

"Is it really so terrible? This is the fate of the _entire_ world, Wayne. A small inkling of what today shall bring. Whether you appear before Trigon or not does not change the outcome... Seven billion people die today."

"_WHY_?!... Why did you do _this_, Ra's?! Are you _MAD_?!"

"Mad?... I was.. _before_. But madness exists for me no longer. Shall I tell you what happens the day after tomorrow? How I shall rebuild a tiny humanity to serve life on this planet, to pay for its sins?... Or would you rather hear the long, sad tale of Ra's al Ghul? We have an hour before the dawn…

But remember my brother, as the glassy, dead eyes of Kahndaq rest upon you in Hell, I will stand with you, Bruce Wayne. And it shall be Ra's al Ghul who condemns _them_… Wretched humanity may never judge us, Wayne. What is done here is _right_!

You are aware my consciousness is one thousand years old. I have died countless times. I have been men, I have been women, I have been children, I have saved thousands of lives only to hold the heads of souls beneath the Sea of Oblivion until all identity was rubbed from their history… And more than this, I am something _more!_… But let us start from the beginning…

I loved a woman, a woman who left me to build her Eden in the sky… leaving a husband and father scorned. You are fortunate to have never tasted fruit as this, its taste was bitter, its rotting core soon _became_ my soul.

So the scorned man cried. He cursed the Fates. He took refuge in earthly delights, in the harems of sultans, and then in the madness of excess, and then in God. I prayed with Guigo the Angelic until I died. I chose another body and lived. Only to die once more. And then become another… I sought new places, new experiences. I crafted the wonders of the Ming Dynasty and later served Japanese Shoguns as their eternal samurai. After centuries, the taste faded and dulled, diluted by all I had been and done.

We are not constant things, Mr. Wayne… Even the spirit grows, only to grow old. With each new life I had taken, a small bit of _me_ died and a tiny bit of _them_ remained. After so _many_ different lives and aspects, deeds and children, it was difficult to say where Ra's began and others ended. You see, even the soul may drift into the madness of schizophrenia. So to answer your question, yes, I _was_ truly mad.

My madness peaked in 1835 when I became trapped in the body of an English poet in Northamptonshire. A man who had been nothing more than a poor agricultural laborer found he had become a poet as my madness manifested and I was unable to maintain the semblance of control. The strains on my consciousness wouldn't let me leave, you see, and so we created poems…

_I am the self-consumer of my woes,  
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,  
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;  
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost_

They compared me to Wordsworth before they had me committed. There was nothing left to do but read, write, rave and grow old in a drafty asylum in the mind of a mad poet. But I had accepted death, I HAD TO! Having seen eight centuries of life... Truly, what man could say more? I was ready for what lay beyond, to drift into the Sea…

As the poet died, his spirit sought the earth it have loved and nourished. And upon his descent, I saw something _new_ in the green fields he faded into. Can you imagine my wonder, Mr. Wayne?! After eight hundred years as a spirit, to discover that there was another entire _world_ just beyond our own, a world we all lived in but did not share…

And it was _Green_.

An expanse beyond my wildest dreams, of purest _sensation_… I traveled tree roots to become the leaves in spring. I was the field of grass tasting of dew, the mighty oak, the clinging vine of need. I felt it all at once, the music of Existence… every plant across the Isles. I embraced the Green to bask in its symphony of being.

But spirits as we are not welcome into the Green. We are of the Red. I was summoned before the _Masters_ of this emerald Paradise for my reckless transgressions, before magnificent _things_ that had existed _long_ before humanity…

The Parliament of Trees.

I had trespassed into their realm and was sentenced to feel as they feel… and to truly _suffer_! To become the consciousness of the ubiquitous Green.

I've felt things you people wouldn't _believe_, Mr. Wayne…  
Fires in the Taiga forest of Siberia that darkened the skies of Japan…  
I've felt Selene's beams dance upon leaves over the graves of men…

I felt all the sins of creatures washed away… to be made pure in the earth…  
By rain, by crows, by worms, by insects, by roots…  
A fertile Earth ripened by the blood of humanity.

This is the world of tomorrow I have built.  
The few that remain will serve their new masters,  
The yoke of the vine, the chains of the branch,  
Willing slaves of the eternal Green.

The Parliament of Trees removed the taint of man from the soul of Ra's al Ghul. I serve the Green as something _other_ than a man. Something _far_ greater. After a generation of suffering, my sins were washed away by the cold rain of suffering. I was bestowed the honor of Protector of the Green, the spirit of plant who may reside in man.

And that is what I am, Mr. Wayne… the anointed Champion of Nature. I protect the branch, the leaf, the root, the seed… I protect them from the ravages of man by steering the course of human history to its final conclusion. I was given my life's mission.

To fulfill the directives of my new masters, I embarked upon my surgical destruction of humanity. I have pursued many avenues of attack and there _have_ been successes along the way, all culminating now in these final hours. But you must hear of my deeds if you are to comprehend my madness! My century of toil…

Over 100 years before you were even born, I worked with Louis Pasteur to study disease. A necessary education, I assure you… but also where I made a terrible error in judgment. His breakthroughs in the study of vaccination I deeply regret, a stupid mistake I perpetrated. How many more lives would anthrax and smallpox have consumed were it not for I? On my first foray, I had _failed_. But as he was wont to say "In the field of observation, chance favors only the prepared mind."

And so I _too_ prepared my mind. I knew the works of the English scholar Charles Darwin… His theory that life _evolves_. And Pasteur had shown that disease was a living thing. Surely it too must evolve? Pasteur's vaccinations defeated known enemies… but what of an _unknown_ enemy determined to kill?

I selected another body and moved to America where I collected _sick_ things… Chickens, pigs, but mostly people. Sickly, miserable, snot-filled things that I deposited into a moist, warm Hellhole where I had lined the walls with agar… the largest Petri dish the world had ever seen! A breeding pit of infection… Not a place you would like to visit.

My work focused upon influenza... Not as brilliant as your gift of poisoned technology to the masses to be sure, but these earliest efforts were only those of a vengeful child. Over twelve years and countless, insipid hosts in my putrid den of disease, I muddled my way to success. A strain of influenza powerful enough to kill men and women in their prime!

My virus perfected, I sold my infected hogs and chickens – quite capable of spreading their deadly illness to human hosts – to an anxious Fort Riley - a week before they began to ship their soldiers off to Europe for the first Great War… I will lay no claim to the beginning of World War I, Mr. Wayne, but rest assured, the Spanish Flu that followed and killed even more than that skirmish was mine indeed…

But disease is _not_ an obedient servant... The tempestuous sea will rage for a time, but for a short time only. The Spanish Flu did give me two glorious years before it burnt itself out, destroying 5 percent of the world's population. I felt vindicated for my earlier work with the serendipitous Pasteur…

And the Great War had shown me _something_… It seemed that the art of death had also evolved beyond the swords and horses of my youth. Gas, guns, planes, bombs…

Like yourself, I am a connoisseur of Death… My education continued. The Great War had not only planted the seeds of my disease across a ravaged Europe, but also the seeds of man's _hatred_. A bitter taste rekindled. I had played with Petri dishes long enough. The horrors of war had beguiled me and I had been presented with _all_ the tools I required for my next work.

In 1923, I took the body of a sallow young German who had studied agronomy in college and then joined a nascent Nazi party. Over the years, I showed my host Herr Himmler and his like-minded compatriot, Herr Hitler that the noble principles of agriculture could _also_ be applied to human engineering…

Are you _surprised_, Wayne? As men have destroyed forests to plant fields for millennia, do you not think that turnabout is fair play? That nature should _not_ plow the fields of man and select only the blonde-haired crop? That flowering weeds should _not_ be left in the harsh sun? Why should it sound so strange?…

In the end however, the Green no longer wished for men's wars. Oppenheimer and the Manhattan Projecthad changed their position. This was no longer a tool The Green could exploit to their advantage… The cancer had spread to the stage where it could destroy the Earth in nuclear holocaust. No, I could ride the red horse of War no longer.

Undaunted, I climbed the horse of the Stars and gazed into the Darkness… Zara's studies of mysticism had shown me the _true_ terrors beyond our world. In 1980 I possessed the life of a scholar of those same dark arts, as it so happened in your home city of Gotham, Mr. Wayne. From there, I searched the world for tombs long forgotten by mortal men… slowly gathered a cult of the young for the turn of the millennium… and the Great Summoning.

You _see_ it now, don't you, Detective?... It was I who first summoned Trigon twenty-one years ago. It was I who fed young Angela Roth to the Great Beast if only to give him a taste of human flesh… If it were not for Ra's al Ghul, your lovely wife would not exist. And yet you would not name me _friend_…

But now I require _your_ honesty, sir. What is it the Great Beast seeks in his daughter? I have sired countless daughters over a thousand years, and they are not the key to _my_ existence. Nor could she be to his. So why does the Consumer of Worlds patiently wait for her?... What _secret_ does Raven hold for her father?..."

"No man has ever been so lost to his own kind as you, Ra's al Ghul…"

"Evolution, Mr. Wayne. I have been _found_. There are no secrets between us now... So tell to me, what does Trigon need of Raven?"

"A daughter… a follower… He wants her to join him… That is all I know…. I _must_ face him, Ra's."

"It will not matter… the world of green begins today… Is it a father's _vanity_ that I wish you to bear testament to these great works?... Lucius Fox was _convenient_, Wayne. Nothing more. An easy addition for the League… I understand now that is was _you_ who were the true prize. I would have gladly given you _my_ daughter…"

Bruce stood motionless as he watched as two figures suddenly materialize on their rooftop… His first thoughts were of Raven as hope exploded in his chest, but this was not the smoke of _her_ arrival… this was something _different_.

Ra's _also_ bore witness to the arrival… perplexed as he watched two alien suits of red and blue suddenly appear before him. The beings inside were not revealed to his senses and the markings of the travelers were ones he did not recognize… and he recognized _many_ things. Machines perhaps?

The President and the Protector of the Green stood and stared as the larger of the two strangers stepped forward towards the man of steel and lifted his strange visor… to reveal the white hair and blue eyes of an old man as he placed a gloved hand upon the shoulder of the Kryptonian…

"My son… We can wait _no longer_. You have done all you can for these humans but the time has come for us to depart this world… The trap we have set for the Great Ravager will destroy this entire system… but the Great Evil _must_ be destroyed before other worlds fall before his corruption. You have done all that you could do and your compassion is a tribute to your greatness which we celebrate on our home world. But come, let us depart…"

"Tell me more of this trap… _father_."

"My son, have you _forgotten_?! You aided in its design… Within moments, the yellow sun that favors this world will collapse upon itself to become a black hole. A sacrifice to be sure, but the Great Devourer must _not_ be allowed to proceed…"

"Yes _Father_.." Ra's smiled wickedly as he stared into the pale eyes of the old man "… This must _not_ be allowed to proceed…"

* * *

**Footnotes**

Because you don't get to be one thousand years old without footnotes…

A Carthusian monk of the 12th century, _Guigo II_ (Surnamed "angelic"), is considered the first writer in the western tradition to consider stages of prayer as a ladder which leads to a closer mystic communion with God.

Although all characters appearing in this FanFic are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is _purely_ coincidental, the English poet sounds _a lot_ like John Clare; the Northamptonshire Peasant Poet. Ra's quote is from Clare's poem, "_A Vision_":

**_A Vision_**  
_I lost the love of heaven above,  
I spurned the lust of earth below,_  
_I felt the sweets of fancied love_  
_And hell itself my only foe._

_I lost earth's joys but felt the glow_  
_Of heaven's flame abound in me_  
_Till loveliness and I did grow_  
_The bard of immortality._

_I loved but woman fell away_  
_I hid me from her faded fame,_  
_I snatched the sun's eternal ray_  
_And wrote till earth was but a name_

_In every language upon earth,_  
_On every shore, o'er every sea,_  
_I give my name immortal birth_  
_And kept my spirit with the free._

Readers of DC's "Swamp Thing" over the past 20 years will be familiar with _The Green_… an elemental force which connects all forms of plant life on earth, experienced by elementals as an ethereal realm inhabited by the collective minds of the Parliament of Trees.

Ra's speech about his experience in the Green is an homage to Roy Batty's (Rutger Hauer) "_Tears in the Rain_" soliloquy from _Blade Runner_. Selene's beams are a reference to moonlight as Selene is the Goddess of the Moon.

_"I've... seen things you people wouldn't believe... [laughs]  
Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion.  
I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate.  
All those... moments... will be lost in time, like [coughs] tears... in... rain.  
Time... to die..."_

Again, that sounds suspiciously like Louis Pasteur's assistant, Charles Chamberland whose oversight in the lab led to the discovery of vaccinations.

The Spanish Influenza Pandemic infected 500 million people worldwide between 1918 and 1920. It killed between 50 and 100 million of those affected people, one of the deadliest natural disasters in human history.

The sallow young German bears similarities to Heinrich Himmler, the _Reichsführer _of the SS and the person most directly responsible for the Holocaust. Many consider him more fundamentally evil than even Hitler. Himmler committed suicide by a cyanide capsule hidden in his mouth shortly after capture.

**Next Chapter: The Origin of Trigon Revealed!**


	100. Chapter 100

**C  
The Revenant God**

The God of Death _waited_...

_Above_ him, stars twinkled in the black, nighttime sky.

_Around_ him, a terror-stricken world shared its madness and fears.

_Inside_ him, the light of a hundred billion souls tore him apart.

The _Darkness_ of one hundred billion and  
One thousand souls put him back together again...

Even now, the memory of drifting _helpless_ across the icy expanse of space,  
The Black Racer's unyielding grip locked upon his face...  
Struggling to close his eyes for Eternity... _excited_ the God.  
He had become death's master. Death itself.

Burned by the Omega force and left for dead by Darkseid,  
A treacherous brother... _No_… the Racer could not close his eyes.

One thousand years ago,  
The dark passions of a thousand men and women  
Spilled into his dead heart, the  
Ichors of a _new_, black lifeblood.

And then a _heartbeat_…  
The first in an eternity of damnation.  
Abandoned souls,  
Abandoned flesh, united,  
_Reborn_ as the God of Death.

The newfound hatred of life had flooded his mind as acrid memories bubbled to the surface, replaying the bitter scene of betrayal in the Pit of Infinity. The burning memory of his brother Uxas - crushing his skull with a rock again and again while the amour the traitor Desaad had constructed for him collapsed before its deadly blows - replaying a million times to define the true purpose of this resurrection... _Revenge_.

The _true_ amour had been worn by his brother Uxas so that he _alone_ may obtain the _Omega Effect_ - the prize of the Old Gods that _should_ have been his. As the blows rained down upon his skull, he felt the Omega Force tear apart his flesh and then his very soul, burning through to his existence until it finally spit him out from the Pit and into nothingness... An eternity as discarded waste.

But the Omega Force had never left him... It had recast him in its image, an image of burned fire. It incinerated his soul and gave him new eyes that allowed him to see across worlds. And that fiery gaze was _always_ upon his brother, Darkseid.

As his brother Uxas had emerged from the Pit to become Darkseid, the God of Evil, so too had he also emerged from his eons of slumber to become the God of Death... Trigon. Drax no longer. Drax had been a fool, weak and trusting_._ It would be Trigon would repay Darkseid and Desaad sevenfold for their betrayal.

Raven sought the aid of the New Gods. He had willed this to be so. Scheming Darkseid would follow her like a dog to the spoils of war. He would be unable to resist as Trigon was a power that Darkseid could _never_ ignore, a blazing fire before the moth of evil.

The remnants of the Source he had constructed within him burned with power, ringed with the Omega Force… threatening to utterly consume him, to extinguish the darkness of the passions of his heart. The light of the Source within him became increasingly difficult to balance, but he _must _prevail!  
Universal Death was the only path for them.

He had seen the future… as Darkseid had crushed his skull with a rock, he had seen it… _ALL_ was Darkseid. Trigon would create a _new_ Universe before he would allow his brother to rule this one… A new Universe for Raven to rule.

* * *

**More Notes:**  
Both Uxas (_Darkseid_) and Drax (_Trigon_) are from Jack Kirby's New Gods. The sons of King _Yuga Khan_ and Queen _Heggra_ of Apokolips, Prince Drax was the rightful heir of Apokolips, much favored by his mother, until he was betrayed and seemingly destroyed in The Infinity Pit by his evil brother in their quest for the Omega Effect.

In the comics, a dying Drax is found by Astorr and assumes the role of Infinity Man. In my AU, Drax takes on a _much_ better identity. Readers may notice that Trigon shares a similar ability to his father Yuga Khan… the power to drain the life force of individuals across an entire planet to increase his own power.

Like father, like son… and like _daughter_?!

**Next Chapter: A Long Note From the Author, Part 2 _or_ The Anatomy Lesson, Redux  
**


	101. Chapter 101

**CI  
A Long Note From the Author, Part 2  
****_or_****… The Anatomy Lesson, Redux**

Three-and-a-half months, one hundred chapters posted, and 114,552 words later…

Deep breath… _Smile_.

Hello there. You my friend, are an _amazing_ reader.

Way back in Chapter 71, in my last long note to the reader, I informed you we are approaching the climax. The Grande Finale. And we are...  
I _promise_.

It's just around the corner…

But first, I wanted to share some of my more _notable_ observations I've learned from writing this story for all twenty-seven of you who have had the patience and emotional tenacity to bear with me…

You see, I have always been a fan of what Alan Moore was able to do in "The Anatomy Lesson", his breakthrough story in _Saga of the Swamp Thing_ issue 21. He took an origin story we _all_ knew and simply turned it on its head. Everything we thought that was canon about Swamp Thing was suddenly… _wrong_. Horrifically wrong. But what Moore revealed was _better_… Incredibly better.

Playing in the DC sandbox is fun.

But Moore showed us that stories made in a sandbox are only sand…

Characters can be remade, reshaped, retold, redone… They evolve. They _have_ to.

That's been the fun part for me... Rewriting character's origins, forming relationships where they have _no_ business of being… Bruce and Raven, Ra's and Azar, Ra's and The Green, Trigon and Darkseid, Clark and… Let's just hold onto _that_ one, shall we?

And I have _learned_ things along the way. It's always good to learn new things, especially about something you like or yourself. So, to borrow a page from Letterman, we have…

**The Top 10 Things I Have Learned From Writing 'Elsewhere':**

No matter how much of minor character you feel Lois Lane is in your particular story, or how essential her untimely demise is for the plot of that story, you should not kill her off. It really upsets people.

No matter how much of a tragic character you feel Richard Grayson is in your particular story, or how utterly essential his untimely demise is for the plot of that story, you should _definitely_ never, ever kill him off. This _really_ pisses people off. Especially when the predominant readership is teenage girls... But there is _always_ hope… Heck, even Jason Todd came back.

Although FanFiction dot net does not require its members to post their sex or exact age, most surveys put the female membership at over 75 percent of total members with a median age of 15. Which is why I'm starting _Man_Fiction dot net… (_just kidding_!) But I really had no idea of the stats of the readership when I started.

Jack Kirby's New Gods are a total package... and wonderful. They're like Lay's Potato Chips, you _can't_ have just one… or two…

Even though 93% of your readers have no idea who she is, Belldandy still makes a wonderful guest lecturer when it comes to Norse mythology. And a Robin/Belldandy crossover would be amazing!

I have a _very_ wonderful wife who is _very_ patient, allowing me to pound out this massive epic for a readership who likely never went past Dick's death when there are so many other things I should be doing.

Hawthornbranch gives great reviews. She has inspired me to read some of the other posted stories and _also_ leave reviews. If you like _getting_ reviews, you should _give_ reviews. As members of the FanFic community, we have to encourage and support one another. It's nice to feel like you're writing for an honest-to-goodness audience.

I use ellipses… and _italics_ a lot! I try to stay away from the **bolds** (except for titles) and always stay away from underlines. People will think it's a hyperlink. Also – and this was a recent discovery – that hyphens also have their uses. I really should try and incorporate more semicolons; a nice break without the finality of a period. Although commas, popping up everywhere nowadays, seem to have replaced them.

It is the _villain_ who defines the plot in comics. Heroes will not create conflict, unless it is self-conflict. Good villains, good plot…

Barbara Gordon looks _amazing_ in black and green! Wait… What?...

So there you have it, gentle reader. Our next chat will come at the end of the story and tie a pretty big bow around this Wagnerian epic. It's just nice to take these breaks every so often. Thank you for your patronage and don't forget to review all the stories you read, even if just to let the author know someone is out there. Writers will always appreciate it.

And now the fate of the world hangs precariously in the balance… The heroes gather for the final conflict against the God of Evil, the Champion of Nature, and the God of Death… only to realize that they fight for the Universe _itself_!

_One would enslave all sentient life in the Universe._  
_One would destroy all sentient life on Earth. _  
_One would destroy the Universe. And create another._


	102. Chapter 102

**Author's Notes:** In comics, the Wizard who dwells in the Rock of Eternity may leave for 24 hours at a time. In my AU, the Keeper of the Rock may visit the realm of reality _twice_. Once - for no longer than a single day - to select a Champion and then a final time to enter the afterlife, as Shazam did when he took Adam's place upon the scales of Anubis.

* * *

**CII  
A Stranger in Eternity**

The Wizard Adam stood away from his granite throne, before the statues of the seven deadly sins of man lining the halls of the Rock of Eternity… Pride, Envy, Greed, Anger, Sloth, Gluttony, and Lust. He had known them _too_ well, allowed these enemies to warp the power that had been blessed upon him. All of the accumulated power in the Universe meant _nothing_ if a Champion did not have the strength to overcome _these_ enemies…

Did even such a champion exist?

A child perhaps… But the threat was _too_ great, _too_ soon. And a child could be swayed by the seven deadly enemies just as _easily_ as an adult, and then not have the benefit of wisdom this day required.

A holy person may resist the mortal sins but place their faith elsewhere and not in their own actions and abilities… when the world so desperately needed them _now_. And even the holiest of men was not beyond pride.

He needed _time_ to choose a worthy successor… time he did not have. To fail in this pinnacle of choice would only quicken the demise of mankind, or worse… _eliminate_ the slim chance that existed for the future of this world. A mistake in judgment and the world, perhaps even the _Universe_, was lost…

He sensed the Stranger's appearance before the Stranger even arrived.

Adam the Wizard turned to face where the Phantom Stranger would appear and watched as the mysterious, caped figure faded into existence upon the hallowed floors of the Rock of Eternity

"You are welcome here, Phantom Stranger. The internal toil of my dilemma must be _truly_ monumental to invite the presence of the Wandering Jew."

"I go where I am needed, Wizard Adam and I am needed _here_. The balance of Universe itself hangs upon your decision."

"I am aware, Stranger. But tell me, who is beyond corruption? Who has the courage to face the darkness and embrace the power of the lightning to cast it aside? Who takes the mantle of Champion in the brief moments we have? Have you come to reveal such a man?"

"Nay, Wizard… But these are _brief_ moments indeed. The child of the Second Coming is already upon us."

"… The _Adversary's_ child. Your atonement is finally at hand?"

"It is… but for one single word… And yet there is the small hope that a seed cast to the Sea may grow to be the pillar of life upon far, distant shores."

"It is better for men such as yourself to speak with their _deeds_. Errant metaphor serves no one this day."

"Then come… Join me, Adam. Bear witness to these deeds of men. Perhaps in this blackest hour of need, the Wizard must go to the Champion."

"The Wizard is bound to the Rock, but _may_ leave its sanctuary for the course of one single day and then one last, final night."

"Cruel Fate has decreed your tenure as Wizard begins on the final day of the world, my friend. If ever you wished to see the land you called home, _now_ is the time! I myself travel to events that may commence a new future for humanity…

...A singular moment in time which may swing the balance to our favor… but only as a terrible sacrifice is made. As once I taunted the first savior of humanity to earn my cursed fate as wanderer, I depart now to pay the proper tribute of tears to its second."

"Then I will journey with you, Stranger. Guide me for these final hours and let us pray that I make the right choice soon. Otherwise my return to the Rock of Eternity may be the beginning of a cursed existence that even _you_ would pity."

"Then we depart, friend Adam. To the heart of the land of your birth…"

* * *

"_NOOO!_"

Bruce Wayne watched as Clark's mighty form crumpled to the dark rooftop… His lungs expelling air to a scream that followed _too_ late…

… a split-second _after_ he realized that Ra's al Ghul had entered the stranger who had called himself Clark's father. The stranger who had alerted the evil spirit of his plan to destroy the solar system… if only to _finally_ extinguish the myriad evils of Trigon. A plan that would also have laid waste to the dark green plots of Ra's al Ghul...

The thoughts of what secrets Ra's could rip from the strangers mind terrified Bruce… what technological wonders he could contort to his sick and twisted designs?

Bruce sprang to his feet, _maybe_, if he could launch himself at the old stranger… to plummet to the ground below before the madman had a chance to take control… if he could drive him to the ledge...

Bruce pulled up as the second alien figure stepped forward. Would he have to battle that stranger as well? Were they as strong as Clark? Or perhaps he could explain what Ra's had done to the old man? _Could_ do... and then he stopped dead in his tracks as _she_ lifted her visor… Held by those tear-filled, ice blue eyes that said _stop_….

"_Barbara_!"

Bruce stood motionless as he watched Barbara Gordon in the strange, alien suit reach across to push a button on the old man's suit. His visor suddenly snapped shut as valves clanked and gears whirled... sealing him on. Carefully, gently, with an air of reverence, she lowered the stiff, strange suit to lay upon the asphalt of the roof and placed its arms across its chest.

Bruce's eyes softened as the tears streamed down her flushed cheeks and she _wept_. Her audible sobs were the only sound in a desolation of silence. As Barbara now struggled to gather stuttered breaths into her small frame through the cries of sadness, Bruce struggled to comprehend what had happened.

Where was Ra's? Was the spirit still inside the old man? He saw beads of sweat glistened on Barbara's forehead below her moistened copper tresses as she leaned forward to embrace the body that she had lowered …to gave one final kiss to its helmet, tears on alien metal.

A voice from inside the suit crackled through external speakers… struggling… wheezing for breath… in a world where the air and the gravity did not suit Kryptonians, Jor-El had played his _final_ part bravely… his hand rose slowly to grip the hand of Barbara Gordon as the old father strained for three final words…

"…_be_…_with_…_him_…"

A piece of Bruce's heart _broke_ as he watched this brave woman he admired and adored – surrender _completely_ to painful cries of anguish for an alien man who had paid the ultimate price to save them – who had willingly volunteered to entomb the spirit of the greatest evil ever born to this world… if only for the chance that his son could live once more…

Bruce stood transfixed as the ethereal form of light emerged from the visor of Barbara's suit into the night, illuminating the entire rooftop with pure light... An _angel_ of light… who entered the prone body of Clark. Bruce couldn't help but _tense_ - the lesson with Ra's al Ghul had almost driven him to madness - as Big Blue slowly rose to his feet once more… And spoke to him.

"…It's alright, Bruce. It's me… _Clark_. Ra's is sealed in with my father."

He could only watch as the Man of Steel took a devastated Barbara into his arms to embrace and comfort her, the hand that could crush granite gently stroking the back of her head. It was as though they had both lost a father…

"He _wanted_ it this way, Barbara. You can't blame yourself. His only regret was that he didn't think of this plan himself.…"

Kal-El then kneeled down to place his hand upon the last father of Krypton.

"I will _always_ remember Jor-El… my _Father_…what you showed me in our brief time together… what courage… what love… _truly_ is. And as you wished, I will wear our family crest with the pride and honor it deserves. To protect and love this new home you gave me."

Clark carefully removed the red alien symbol from his father's breastplate, which strangely resembled the letter _S_ in an inverted triangle and affixed it with quick, powerful movements and heat vision to his own blue costume… a symbol for this new world from the ashes of an old…

Bruce _jumped_ when he felt the white gloved hand lightly grip his shoulder from behind, spinning with reflexes he didn't think he had to view two men who had _not_ been there a moment ago. He recognized one of them… the Stranger who had appeared to him as he had stormed down the manor's hallway to confront Raven, telling him to cast aside his anger and forgive. Bruce had confirmed later with Alfred that the Englishman did most certainly _not_ have stage magicians in his acquaintance.

Clark seem to have recognized the _other_ stranger as he moved Barbara behind him, a steely glare of cold venom in his eyes, ready to take action…

"_Adam_."

Adam, wearing long, white robes, raised his hands in a gesture of peace and replied.

"A _ghost_ of Adam only, man of the stars… reborn as the Wizard to select a _new_ Champion of Justice. The reign of Adam is no more... The God of Freedom ended that sad tale of wanton destruction. May the next Champion I select bear the yoke of power with more Wisdom and Nobility than Teth Adam ever could."

"Then stay out of my way… Bruce… Barbara, remain here where it's safe… I'll be back for you. I _can't_ lose this world as I lost Krypton…"

The cry of "_CLARK_!" Barbara screamed to the night sky would never reach the man of steel's ears… he had departed with a speed _far_ beyond what the sound of her plea could travel… traveling towards the Great Ravager…

"That _idiot!_… Bruce, we've got to help him! On Krypton, Trigon _vaporized_ his cousin who was just as powerful as Clark!"

"I hope we can, Barbara… but I'm afraid there's something I have to take care of first…"

"Bruce, this is _it_!… There _is_ nothing else. The final conflict. Look, I know Raven's not here yet, but it's starting! She'll make it! We _have_ to be there… before… before…"

"Before he was trapped… Ra's told me whether I met with Trigon or not… it wouldn't _matter_… that everyone was going to die."

"Trigon plans to kill everyone. That's not exactly news, Bruce..."

"I don't think he meant Trigon, Barbara… Somehow, he hacked into my Engine of Destruction. It's here, in Kahndaq. I had Lucius move it…The way he _spoke_ … Ra's plans to eliminate all of humanity… with Trigon or without him… at dawn…"

"God _damn_ it, Bruce! Why did you _ever_ make that _*& #ç˜©_ thing!"

The silent smell of human decay that surrounded them, a country of eleven million wiped from existence, brought the tears of profound regret once more to his eyes as he finally comprehended _why_ he had built it…

"…_I never wanted what killed my parents to happen again_…"

* * *

**More Author's Notes:**

The Phantom Stranger is one of the few major characters in comics who does not have _definitive_ origin story. In the January 1987 issue of "_Secret Origins_" #10, four distinct origin stories were presented by some of the top names in comics; including Alan Moore, Mike W. Barr, Jim Aparo, Joe Orlando and others. It's a brilliant comic where the mysterious stranger's origin is still left… a mystery. There are four _very_ different origins presented.

However, the origin story that has always been closest to my heart is the Mike W. Barr and Jim Aparo piece entitled "Tarry Till I Come Again". In a stroke of brilliance and courage, Barr presented the Stranger as an incarnation of the _Wandering Jew_, a figure from medieval Christian mythology.

The original legend of the Wandering Jew tells of a Jewish man who was among the crowds as Jesus Christ carried the cross to His crucifixion. The Jewish man taunted Christ while he struggled with His cross and was condemned to walk the earth for all eternity until the Second Coming of Christ.

"Tarry Till I Come Again" was the final Phantom Stranger story drawn by the late, great Jim Aparo, the artist who had taken over the original series from Neal Adams without missing a beat. His pencil-and-inks ranks up there with the all-time greats and his work on Phantom Stranger is stunning.


	103. Chapter 103

**CIII  
Easy Rider**

Bruce's mind grasped the possibility that it was already too _late_... Kahndaq would be spared as it had already been targeted... The rest of humanity could already be dead. He had given a madman the tool he needed to end all human life on the planet, and in his mind, it was already happening…

The echoes of Ra's al Ghul laughter haunted him from inside the Kryptonian suit… until Barbara's voice brought him back.

"Bruce… I'm _sorry_. I know you were in a terrible place when you designed the engine. All that matters now is how do we turn it _off_?"

"…I need to get to the Wayne data warehouse in Shiruta, in the industrial district." Bruce turned to address the tall, dark-cloaked stranger. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name…"

"Men know me as the Phantom Stranger. Once, I had another name but it is lost to the winds of time…"

"Phantom Stranger it is, then... Look Stranger, we need to get to 2889 al Agora Boulevard in the Shiruta industrial district. Can you teleport us there? The fate of humanity hangs in the balance!"

"Alas Bruce Wayne, I am cursed to travel _alone_… though my journeys have taken me far and wide…" Bruce didn't wait for the rest of the monologue.

"How about you, reborn Wizard? Can you transport us to 2889 al Agora?"

"No, I can not... Nor will I name you the Champion of the Lightning, Bruce Wayne. With such _power_, the fiery darkness that burns in your embattled heart would consume both you and _this_ world…" Again, Bruce could not wait for elaboration, however eloquent.

"What about if you chose Barbara?"

"An _interesting_ choice, man of Gotham… But these times call for a Champion who is _balanced_ in their nature, with the ability to endure the grasping temptations of the seven deadly enemies… as Teth Adam could not. Young Barbara Gordon shows _many_ of the signs of a true Champion, but she is impetuous and swayed strongly by emotion…"

"So we're on our own then?"

The wizard and the Phantom Stranger stared at one another, neither sure of what to say, creating an awkward silence…

"This is _just_ great!... Barbara, do you know where Raven is?"

Bruce _almost_ didn't finish the question as he turned to see Barbara removing the the strange, alien armor… realizing that she was _drenched_ in sweat, her white blouse clinging to every asset of the lacy bra and flat stomach beneath. He averted his gaze as the Stranger answered his question.

"…Even now, Raven faces a foe as powerful as her father, Bruce Wayne. The Lord of Elysium _himself_ has fallen and time has returned to the dead…"

"I did _not_ need to know that… Look, you two spectators do _whatever_ it is you have to do… As for us, we're off to save the world." His V.P had removed the last of the armor and was pulling on high-heeled shoes. "C'mon Barbara, I saw a fire escape over there…"

Bruce and Barbara descended the old, metal ladder in the near darkness, leaving the Wizard and the Stranger behind. Bruce was asking questions above him - trying hard not to stare at the descending derriere that accompanied the replies.

"That was really Clark's father in the suit?"

"Yes, his name is Jor-El. We met him in Elysium."

"So there was no plan to blow up the solar system, right?"

"No, that was a ruse to get Ra's into the suit with Jor-El."

"Will he stay in there?... Can he escape?"

"The suit's power will drain eventually, but it will last _a lot_ longer than what we've got now."

"Ra's must _never_ escape...Was it _really_ hot inside the suit? You're soaked."

"No, that was Clark. His spirit tagged along inside the suit with me. I thought I was going to _faint_ before Jor-El finished talking. He's super hot!"

"You did amazing. You seemed really shaken up when it happened though… Are you OK?"

"Clark is not like _other_ Kryptonians… He was genetically engineered to be super-powered with a solar battery. The Earth's atmosphere is toxic to _normal_ Kryptonians… Jor-El had told me that, but I didn't realize what I had asked of him until it was too late… I hoped that there would be some way to save him, that we could have had some _time_… but the suit had to be sealed _completely_… it had no way to convert or store atmosphere that way… He never told me all the details… I only realized when it was happening."

"He died to save his son?"

"Yes."

"I would have done the same thing, Barbara. Every day, I wish it could have been _me_ in that stealth suit…"

"_Bruce_…"

"It's true."

They touched down on the street in silence, an alleyway with mercifully few dead bodies. Even so, the stench became overpowering. With a hand over his mouth and nose as he acclimatised, Bruce spotted what he had been searching for beyond the mouth of the alleyway… a _motorbike_.

He jogged over to it with Barbara walking quickly behind. Keys… Keys…. _Yes_! The driver had fallen dead beside his Triumph Bonneville America and still had the keys in his hand. Bruce pried them from the man's cold, dead fingers.

"Do you even know how to ride _that_?" Barbara leveled a suspicious gaze at him…

"How hard can it be? I've piloted stealth suits…"

"You're on the back. I'm driving." She snatched the keys from him and ripped the stilettos off her shoes, tossing the shanks onto the street as Bruce watched her in wonder. "_What_? You can't drive a motorbike in high heels."

"Barbara, have _you_ ever driven…" The rev of the engine and the backwards glance of sly blue eyes answered _that_ question. He had tried _desperately_ not to stare as she hiked up her dress as she cleaved her heels and swung a leg over to straddle the Triumph Bonneville, revealing gartered black stockings... Bruce _slowly_ dragged his peripheral vision off Barbara's legs, shut up and obediently climbed on the back.

"You'll have to tell me where I'm going. Hang on to me and lean into the turns! I'm going to have to weave around _a lot_!"

Bruce slipped one hand around Barbara's slender waist and opened a wi-screen with the other. He diverted his attention between where she was going (she really _was_ a good driver), trying to watch _where_ his hand held onto her, and navigating the faint screen he had opened. The display was dim… too many of the nanites in Kahndaq had been destroyed when the Engine of Destruction had been deployed. But it was all they had.

"Take a left by that taxi!" Barbara weaved her way in and out to turn left, navigating between corpses on the fly.

According to the faint glow of the screen, they were only five miles away from the industrial sector. But still, it was a _rough_ five miles. There were bodies, bikes, cars, animals and trucks scattered haphazardly throughout the road with only a single headlight to illuminate their way. And a bridge to cross that may be blocked. Barbara gunned it when she could, but more often then not, she had to pick her way through the streets of the dead.

Bruce brought up the local time on his screen… thirty minutes before the dawn. In his gut, he _knew_ Ra's would plan it for the dawn… The dawn of _his_ new world. Perhaps Bruce was reading too _much_ into the mad spirit's ramblings, but Luthor had shown him the folly of believing that his weapon's security was infallible - when the former President had demonstrated an unexpected expertise of the Wayne nanites to murder the nine top generals.

Bruce finally saw the bridge they needed in the distance and pointed it out to Barbara, her coppery hair dancing in his face as she revved the throttle. She had pointed the bike down an undeveloped dirt hill and was now making a beeline for the riverside with Bruce clinging even tighter.

Still, he couldn't help but smile as Barbara let out a whoop of triumph at the bottom, turning and gunning the bike across an old river path, finally able to twist the throttle wide open, which brought the front wheel off the ground.

God, this should have felt so _wrong_… Rocketing through the night on the back of a motorbike… holding on for dear life to a gorgeous woman who was not his wife… a magnificent creature whose loyalty to him was only matched by her passions and talents… but it didn't.

It felt right.

This was worlds away from the board rooms, the conference calls, the security and structure of his normal life. He should have been afraid, a wreck of nerves or guilt… but he wasn't. Racing through the dark across a foreign city with minutes until the end of humanity, Bruce Wayne was _ecstatic_. Senses he had let go of with childhood came suddenly alive; the vibration and shift of the bike, the roar of the engine, the different smells mingling with the moisture of the river in the night air, the feel of Barbara Gordon's body under his fingertips...

But it wasn't Barbara Gordon's body he _wanted_ under his fingertips. For all his bumps, bruises, and sensations, Bruce Wayne was a man again… and a husband. He missed the feel of Raven Wayne profoundly, the powerful balance of contrasts with a need even greater than his own, yet a will stronger than any he had imagined.

He couldn't let her down.

He had forced his fears, his guilt and his tragedy into Raven, unburdening himself of the terrors that he needed to overcome to become a man. He had taken an abandoned, beautiful stranger who only sought the light of hope in a new land, and then shut her off from the world, locking her away as his own Pandora's Box… And she had allowed it, if only to help him discover _love_.

God, he should have done this long ago… taken responsibility for his mistake and _fix_ it. It was Bruce Wayne that had given Ra's al Ghul the key to open the door for Trigon… to allow Raven's father access to their world, to destroy this country. Because of his cowardice, eleven million people had died, Raven had a terrible battle to face, and humanity's fate teetered along a razor's edge, disaster waiting on either side.

But now he would face it as a man and husband…

"You miss her, don't you?" Barbara had suddenly stopped the bike on a bluff, a hundred yards from the bridge near the water's edge and turned to talk to him.

"… Is it that obvious?"

"Bruce, you couldn't take your eyes off of me back there. You had every chance in the world to let your hand slip… up _or_ down… but it didn't… not even _once_." Barbara seemed disappointed, and yet optimistic. "But I _am_ happy for you, Bruce… With all that's happening right now, you still mean the world to her. And she means the world to you… That _is_ obvious."

"She means more to me than all the stars above combined… Barbara, if it had been _different_ for us…I…"

Barbara's face became serious for a moment then. She fixed his gaze in a stare so _powerful_, so electric that no words could be spoken between them… two nimble hands cupped his strong jaw while her parted lips inched _agonizingly_ close to his… so close that they shared the same breath. And then closer still…

She took his lips into hers, kissing him full on the mouth. It was a kiss that spoke of worlds that _could_ have been, of histories now unwritten… Beautiful red-haired daughters traipsing across the lush grounds of Wayne Manor while devilishly handsome, dark-haired sons ran across the dreamscape of miracles… and faded away. Her lips began the kiss as a lover and departed as a friend.

With a sigh, Barbara lowered her forehead to rest upon Bruce's, her hands gently intertwined the hair at the back of his head so that only whispers could be spoken between them now.

"I'm _letting_ her have you... I wouldn't let you go to anyone else, Bruce Wayne. Remember that." A smile broke upon those enchanting lips as she pulled away. "And I think I'm _finally_ falling in love with someone else…"

"Barbara, that's… _Who_?..."

Her secret intact as she spun around again, Bruce caught the coy smile and confidence as Barbara gripped the handle bars. He had kept his secret _too_… how he had thought only of Raven as Barbara's lips tasted his, remembering how dark lips had ravished a passionate inferno that burned in each of them beyond their control… Barbara Gordon still had a soul to give.

His soul _belonged_ to his half-demon lover.

He felt the roar of the engine as Barbara revved the Triumph into life.

"Hang on to me, Bruce. That bridge is jammed. I'm going through the river…"

"You're _wha_..." He was cut off mid-sentence as Barbara twisted the throttle for all it was worth as the bike plummeted straight for the water. He hung on for dear life to this motorcycle-mad-woman as she deftly lowered herself onto the bike.

The splash could be heard for miles. They were soaked... and they _almost_ made it across. The bike had slowed and sunk into the silt on the opposing bank... irretrievable. Bruce helped Barbara onto the Terra Firma of the new shore.

"Bruce, you're going to have to go on ahead of me. I can't run in _these_." She pointed to her mangled shoes. "I'll catch up."

"Alright, it's 2889 al Agora Boulevard, five blocks that way." Bruce pointed in a north direction as he peered at the weakly lit phosphorescent screen.

"I'll see you there. I might duck into a shoe store along the way, though."

Bruce grinned at her, suddenly tussling her long, red locks in the darkness like an older brother might tease his younger sister...

"It's _Clark_, isn't it?"

"_What_?... _How_?... Don't tell him… OK?" This courageous, heroic hellcat suddenly became a crushing, high-school junior again.

"Because I wouldn't let you go to anyone else, Barbara Gordon. Remember that."


	104. Chapter 104

**CIV  
Elysium Falls**

Barda, Raven, Orion and Lightray stepped from the Boom Tube to emerge into the timeless fields of Elysium, at the exact place from where Barda and Raven had departed. The instant her foot touched the ground, Barda's eyes immediately went to her husband, the New God Scott Free, lying still upon the grass…

But Alive.

She breathed a _huge_ sigh of relief… only to have the air ripped from her when she spied the Black Racer, only twenty feet from Scott, advancing _far_ too quickly towards her God of Freedom. The Racer should not have been _this_ close! They had only scarce seconds remaining!

Her shock was suddenly doubled when Lightray materialized over her fallen lover, completely oblivious to the imminent approach of the Black Racer. The fool must have slipped by her - _beyond_ the speed of sight - so that the energetic New God was leaning over her naked husband a full twenty feet in front of her…

The colorful outfit that had been woven with Scott's Mother Box had been utterly disintegrated in his battle with Black Adam… much to Lightray's profound joy as he gazed up and down her prone love, taking in the God's physique who wore only boxer shorts.

"_Oh_!.. The Prince of New Genesis _is_ as handsome as they say! And _such_ shameful fashion sense! Though I _do_ like the cut of his cloth!..."

"_Don't touch him you idiot!_" After screaming, Barda quickly debated whether or not to blast Lightray with her Mega Rod to remove him from the approach of the Racer (and her husband), but there was the possibility that she would hit Scott as well.

"This Mother Box… It must be simply _antique_!"

Barda felt something inside her _explode_ as the giddy fool continued on, examining the one thing keeping her husband alive; technology already stretched to its very limits with what little power it had remaining. The amount of charge she had been able to secure on Earth was woefully inadequate.

The Racer was _almost_ upon them… even in this time suspended realm, he approached as fast as she could walk. The immortal body of a New God would not allow them to survive the sort of wound Black Adam had inflicted when he had pushed steely fingers through Scott's ribcage, attempting to crush his still beating heart. Barda hoped against all hopes that this would not be the last living memory she would have of her husband as Lightray continued to fondle the Mother Box, the Black Racer now only an arm's length away…

Desperate, she sprung at Orion's fair lover, covering the distance between them in a single, mighty bound. Her arms extended to remove this light-haired fool from the path of Death's Avatar before it was too late. She did not wish _anyone_, especially Orion, the pain she must endure when the Racer finally laid his cold hand upon Scott Free…

Perhaps it was Orion who screamed '_NO_' behind her, she could not recall.

Her hands never encountered Lightray. The New God simply vanished milliseconds before she could reach him. Instead, _something_ brushed by her, extinguishing the passions of her raging heart, cooling her fire until she felt _cold_… Overwhelming numbness spread through Barda akin to powerful venom as her consciousness waned… as though the switch of her life had now been turned off and only the brief reflections of light remained to replay images from her past… now claimed by darkness. Tightening. One last thought…

This was death.

And then something called her back.

Shivering and weak, she found herself cradled in _someone's_ arms... alive once more. Instinctively, she realized that it was the Black Racer _himself_ who had brushed past her as she had flown through the air over Scott's body. The hazy image before her eyes now refocused itself into the face of… Lightray?! It was _his_ arms that held her. His foolish grin had been replaced by a look of concern as he stared down at her.

"Too close a brush with the Black Racer by far, Princess."

It was _all_ she could do to say his name, a whisper meant to be a scream…

"_Scott_."

Only then did the warrior of Apokolips feel the small, gentle hand that rested on her forehead. The hand that had melted the cold venom in her veins… spreading warmth through her mind and consciousness… Slowly, she turned her head to find Raven standing beside them; it had been this small woman's touch that had called her back from the very brink of death.

"Scott is alive, Barda… Are you alright?"

"I think I was dead…"

"As close to death as your husband ever was… You threw yourself in front of the Black Racer to save Scott and Lightray … That was _very_ courageous, Barda."

"Not courageous… desperate… You can put me down now, Lightray. "

"Thank the Gods! I don't think my arms could bear to hold you up any longer!"

Barda was about to break his jaw for that comment when she thought better of it… as inadvertent as his actions had been, Lightray's reckless prodding _had_ apparently swayed the Fates in Scott's favor. She could allow the bright fool one flippant comment… but only _once_.

"Be mindful of theway your tongue _flaps_ when I decide to slam your mouth shut… You may bite it off."

A strong hand placed itself firmly upon Barda's shoulder to steady her as she stood once more. Mighty Orion…

"He only plays at the fool, brave Barda. Do not let his act anger you. There is nothing of weight to his chatter."

"Such little effect would you also assign to my tender whispers, cruel Orion?" Lightray inquired of the Dog of War.

"I assign worth to _deed_, noble Lightray. And you have proved yourself a true friend to Barda, as she - in her desperate actions - has shown friendship for you. _Behold_…"

They followed the hand of Orion to the Mother Box on Scott's chest to witness an unexpected miracle. The device… was _transforming_. Circuitry grew over Scott Free's torso, binding itself to his gaping wound.

Tiny wires wove into flesh, meshing machine with God as the mortal lesion now became artificial flesh and apparatus. Barda stared in disbelief as her old Mother Box made two '_PING_' sounds as she witnessed the healing transformation of her old device reach completion. In her heart, she knew these two simple chirps meant '_Farewell'_. It was leaving her to join with her husband, to replace the Mother Box that had sacrificed itself to save Scott during his greatest battle…

The Mega Rod she now held also made two '_PING_' sounds to acknowledgment the transformed Box that had become one with her Scott. They were _paired_; as husband and wife, warrior and ruler, so too were their Mother Boxes who had now committed to one another. She turned to Lightray in astonishment…

"…What did you _do_, Lightray?"

"Princess… I'm afraid I am allowed to do _nothing_. Fate itself prevents me from interfering with the weave of destiny controlling the lives and deaths of those of Apokolips. _But_… it has been told to me on occasion that the bountiful energy which courses through my body _may_ have strange effects on Mother Boxes, allowing them to draw energy from my very presence. Perhaps… _however_ inadvertently on my part and within the sublime mysteries of Fate, that is what has happened here…"

A sudden gasp from the God of Freedom now riveted their attention to Scott as his eyes popped open with the rapid intake of air. Lightray's surprise at this recovery allowed Barda to take him off guard in a massive bear hug, the only woman to have held him since his mother…

"You may insult me until the ends of Eternity you fantastic man!"

Lightray dangled a full foot off the ground in her mighty embrace as he saw the tears of joy now spill from her eyes. She beamed a wide grin as she let him drop to the ground, turning and almost flying to Scott's side in happy steps. As Orion had hidden his love within a warrior's heart, he understood now that this too was the heart of Barda, passion beneath the shield. But there could be no hiding her pure love for the God of Freedom any longer.

Scott slowly reached up to grasp Barda's hand, speaking slowly as he looked at her through his soft eyes…

"How fortunate… I am… it is not the…Black Racer… but a beautiful Valkyrie… who has come to take me… to the afterlife."

"Scott…" She kissed his hand five times before pressing it to her cheek. "You can _never_ do that to me again."

"My... _Barda_?..."

"_Your_ Barda, Scott. It's me… you're alive. Thank the Gods, you're alive…"

Scott Free slowly raised himself into a sitting position, with assistance from his wife to look down at the Mother Box that had molded to his chest.

"This was yours, Barda."

"It is yours, my love… A thousand times yours! I would have given _much_ more than this to see you live again. Your father… _our_ father gifted me with this Mega Rod, to allow my old Mother Box to chose you, Scott… with help from Lightray." Barda pointed to the white garbed God.

"If but the Fates had allowed, son of Izaya, Lightray himself would have awoken you with a passionate kiss..."

"And this…" continued Barda (deftly avoiding Lightray's verbal jousts) " …is Orion."

Scott slowly rose to his feet as Barda continued to steady him. The helmeted Dog of War strode confidently towards Scott Free to take his arm in friendship.

"Few have worn their heart so openly and lived to tell the tale… a tale of battle these ears long to hear when there is time for it, Scott Free."

"Gladly, Orion. I thank you and your comely friend for your aid… It is strange that we should finally meet, the two bartered sons of The Pact."

"Aye… brothers in fate."

During this reunion, Raven had stepped over to her mother, Arella, who stood silently alone. Her silence hid her pain from most. This woman had known _true_ tragedy her life, both as Angela Roth and Arella. A victim of Trigon's lust and a refugee to a strange land, the become the only surviving member of Trigon's return. Raven knew that in her mother's mind, she had been reliving the horrors of Azarath's last moments – as the Nebu demons tore her gentle friends and neighbors limb from limb.

Plagued by guilt since her inception, Arella had tried to love Raven as best she could. She had tried to fit into this strange, ancient land while protecting her daughter from the persecution of her peers. Even Arella secretly feared what Raven _could_ become… a secret she could never hide from the empath Raven.

There were many among her home world that believed Raven was a harbinger of evil, that the child should have been cast through the Great Door at birth. Arella had begged them for their acceptance, to spare the child for the goodness within her. It had taken Raven _many_ years of study with masters to allow that goodness to thrive and enable her human half to maintain her emotions.

In the end, it had not mattered.

"Mother, what is it you fear?"

"A premonition of fiery death, my child… Perhaps it is only the strains of magic, but I _felt_ the burning within me."

"Perhaps the will of Trigon plays tricks with your mind?"

"Perhaps… But there is something _wrong_ here. I have not felt a fear like this since Trigon darkened the Doorway of shining Azarath."

"I too feel the unrest of the spirits… anger and fear." Raven closed her eyes and concentrated. "There is a stranger here… a _terrible_ stranger. They worry for the Lord of this land…"

Unexpected tremors now shook the earth they stood upon. Raven caught her mother before she fell, feeling Arella's fear intensify. A great bellow from the skies drew their attention to the west where the great drama played out on the horizon before them…

An old giant with a small scythe, who _must_ be the Lord of Elysium, Cronus! Truly, he was enormous! Even miles away, they witnessed every tensed muscle of the Titan, father of the ruling Gods of Olympus. Before him, also growing to an enormous size was the reason for his devout anger, stone-faced _Darkseid_! Both were now hundreds of feet tall, facing one another, with the Titan screaming at the Lord of Apokolips.

"Leave this place, evil one! This land is for the dead!"

As the giant Titan waved his scythe threateningly, a calm Darkseid replied in words and deed - Omega beams shooting forth from the evil God's crimson eyes to disintegrate the Titan's neck, severing its head from the body…

"So be it, old one."

The spirits themselves began to wail in a chorus of woe – swaying in the wind that now buffeted Elysium. Panic, sorrow, fear and hatred filled the air around Raven as she recalled with horror the last words spoken to her from the dread Lord of Apokolips…

"..._I shall await your departure, Raven Wayne_"

Darkseid had followed them. Their battle would not be begun without him! And he wanted Scott and Barda returned to Apokolips to Granny Goodness. Raven had no idea of how to stop such an evil, imposing force…

Raven's train of thought was broken when a Boom Tube opened in the air before them. Casually stepping through its entrance was gray Darkseid, now his normal size which was still as tall as Barda and three times as thick. In his hand he inspected the decapitated head of Cronus before addressing the group…

"I apologize for the delay… I was _detained_."

As an empath, Raven had felt evil before. But the evil she had felt was never like _this_! This was a supreme wickedness that would conquer _all_ joys, transforming bright emotion into defeated hopelessness for its amusement. It was a greed, a lust for power unlike _any_ she had ever known. The demon rallied within her as she fought to keep it contained, desire to join a kindred fiend…

"_Darkseid_…" Orion's glare almost blazed at his father as he hissed his name, "You are _not_ welcome here."

"Yes…" Darkseid examined the head of Cronus once more… "So I've been told. But do not worry, cur… I have only come to collect my wayward son… and his conniving bitch."

"I will die first!" It was Barda who stepped in front of Scott, her Mega Rod leveled at Darkseid ready to fight.

"Easily arranged..."

"Lord Darkseid…" Raven had to use _all_ her control to approach the God of Evil as fires burned within her soul, trying to tear her apart. "My request still stands. We welcome your aid to face my father…"

Any further words left her as Darkseid stepped forward to place his huge, dark hand upon her cheek. The demon inside her became orgasmic at his touch - even if she herself were _repulsed_.

"My child… Your father is a matter that requires… _study_. My brother is a matter to be taken seriously. He is as much a child of the Infinity Pit as am I… and has employed some new stratagem to increase his power even further. It is my fear there is the power our father Yuga Khan in him…"

"_Brother_?..." Raven stared incredulously at the scheming Darkseid.

"Yes Raven… You know I speak the truth. You are my _niece_. A true-born Princess of Apokolips… Return with me to your Kingdom and surrender doomed Earth to Drax. Come with me and I will allow treacherous Barda to be your bride's maid so that it can _never_ be said that noble Darkseid has not shown mercy. Cruel Fate has cursed me with an _idiotic_ useless lump of flesh that I must name as my first-born son, Kalibak. But with your powerful mind, beauty and spirit, perhaps _something_ may be made of that most unfortunate blood line after all…"

"I am already married… _Uncle_."

"You are a _God_, Raven. Gods do not marry mortals…" Darkseid turned his eyes to gaze upon Arella, a sneer spreading across his wicked mouth. "They have _dalliances_."

Anger flashed across Raven's indigo eyes as she calmly took Darkseid's hand and removed it from her cheek. Uncle and niece locked stares… neither turning aside. Her mother had suffered _far_ too much under the brutality of Trigon to be insulted in this manner.

"I _am_ married... and I am my mother's daughter. If you choose _not_ to aid us, then depart. We will not delay you any further."

"Impertinent child! It is your mother's flesh that taints you thus…. Let a kind uncle free you of its burden to reveal the _true_ power you struggle to bury inside… I will configure my Omega beams to only burn away the pale weakness that the woman has birthed… to reveal your father's daughter."

"No Darkseid. I will destroy you _myself_ before I allow this to happen!" Orion raised the hammer of Thor to his father…

"Can you break the Pact that Fate itself has made, Orion? Are you _beyond_ destiny? Unless you are, your words are as empty as your head. I grant you free return to Apokolips though… To end our Pact. But promptly return here so that you may witness your cousin's true birth before I _happily_ destroy you. Bring your slobbering lapdog as well… there is a fire pit in Apokolips awaiting him..."

Raven jolted as Barda's thunderous strike landed upon Darkseid with her Mega Rod. Raven clamped her ears with her hands from the echoes of the crushing impact. She had swung well over Raven's head - as Darkseid was much taller than she - with a force that would have toppled a mountain. The God of Evil flew backwards as Barda let out a warrior's yell, watching her opponent simply come to a skidding halt on his backside. Dark, crimson energy burned in his eyes…

"You _dare_, woman! You shall know a pain like none other has _ever_ experienced!"

Raven could feel Darkseid's immortal hatred saturate the air around them. Instinctively, she backed away from Barda, fearing to be caught in the ensuing battle and equally fearful for her friend Barda. The Lord of Apokolips was a foe that had _never_ been defeated for one reason only… His power was beyond compare.

Orion was shaking with anger as Lightray pleaded with him not to return to Apokolips and break the Pact. That it was Darkseid's ultimate plan to use him this way. Raven had retreated towards her mother while her frightened eyes never left brave Barda, who pointed the Mega Rod at _herself_ - its beams struck her yellow and blue Apokoliptian armor as she struggled to remain standing from its effects.

Powerful red Omega Beams emitted from each of Darkseid's eyes while the spirits in Elysium died from intent. The power of one thousand crimson lightning bolts hit Barda full on her armor as she was thrown from her feet, tossed like a child's toy, spiraling sixty feet through the air…

The Female Fury did _not_ land well as she rolled and tumbled across the plain, but she was... alive! Darkseid's Omega Beams had the power to disintegrate _any_ matter, even the former God of Time had fallen before them. Coming to a stop in the distance, Barda unsteadily took her feet once more, her molten armor now in tatters, falling from her chest as she struggled to stand, smoke rising from her.

"Well done, warrior of Apokolips. Granny has taught you _well_…" The smile returned to Darkseid's evil visage. "Using the Mega Rod to increase the density of your armor to _such_ a level! A trick well played girl, but such a trick may be played only _once_. You are the first to survive Darkseid's Omega Beams, but you will not survive a _second_ time…"

Raven's mind spun frantically in circles as she contemplated what she could do… She could transport Barda, but Darkseid had said that his Omega Beams could track their target across the Universe! She could not pull the God's soul from him, he was _far_ too powerful. And he was beyond reasoning now… She watched the fire build in the dark Lord's eyes one more time, as she watched Orion and Lightray powerless to intervene and Barda only manage to stumble forwards…

**"****_STOP!_****"**

All motion in Elysium came to standstill. In a land that had not aged for millennia, time now froze within its shores. The winds ceased as the dust that Barda's tumbles had disturbed remained suspended in the air. Raven knew the powerful voice who had issued the supreme command…

Scott Free.

She watched as the nearly naked New God strode across the grass to address the Lord of Apokolips, the Omega fires still glowing in his eyes.

**"****_DARKSEID… LEAVE US._"**

Motion returned to Elysium as Raven watched the grass pull away from Scott Free while she herself resisted a tremendous urge to leave. A Boom Tube opened behind Darkseid.

"The Anti-Life Equation… Under my very nose _all_ this time… Cherish it while you can, Scott Free. We will meet again and the father will claim what is rightfully _his_." Darkseid's mouth twisted into a frightening, scornful grin as he backed into the Boom Tube, the Omega fires burning in his hateful eyes…

"But as a parting _gift_ to my niece…"

Raven watched as Omega Beams fired directly at her while Darkseid entered the Boom Tube. She was frozen in place with only a single thought coursing through her mind…

_'… to reveal your father's daughter.'_

The demon within her held her steadfast, there would be no vanishing tricks this time. It had seized its _greatest_ opportunity to be freed of the mortal woman who had bound her, to gleefully evict the thousand souls she held. Weak flesh and meaningless love would be torn asunder to reveal Trigon's daughter, the crimson heir of Apokolips, born of Omega Beams…

Raven watched in horror as she saw her mother suddenly jump in front of her, her arms raised to defend Raven from the deadly Omega Beams, hit Arella full force. Mere inches before her eyes, her mother - the woman who had done nothing but protect her all of her life, who had fought for Azarath until the terrible end witnessing untold tragedy – _disintegrated_.

Raven watched, time standing still once more, as Arella's flesh became nothing more than a red glow while her bones fragmented and crackled in deadly energy to become nothing more than black smoke. She didn't even realize who was screaming until she had to gasp for another breath to scream again…

Four Gods gathered around her in solace, but it would be numbed moments before she even _knew_ they were there, that they had spoken words to her…


	105. Chapter 105

**CV  
Apparitions**

Her dark soul drifted past the red carnage that had once been glorious Azarath…

But no longer... Now it was only _dead_.

_Azarath_ - the most noble and blessed land ever created by mortal design, a sanctuary of learning and enlightenment for those who would follow the bright path of peace and love. It's shining marble halls and cut-tile mosaics told of a people who lived in harmony with light, and reveled in the spirit.

But life breathed this hallowed air no longer. No souls haunted its temples. Voluminous libraries, the envy of old Alexandria, were now shaded in soon forgotten time. One million volumes would never explain the tragedy that had befallen Azarath in its darkest hour.

Raven drifted past mangled corpses (some she recognized) whose bones would lie upon the intricately laid stone of the streets below… _Bones_ that would be a greater testament to the horrors that had befallen Azarath than simple words could ever convey. For all they were, _this_ was their final legacy...

Arella's child had never been truly accepted in Azarath. Her soul had never been pure, nor could it ever be. She was the child of Trigon. She had been feared. For the truly enlightened, she had been pitied. Although in the way that Raven was both darkness and light, she comprehended now that glorious Azarath was also created of Heaven and Hell.

The realm had been created by a _man_… whose soul had become as black as the grave in the shadow of his kingdom ascending to the heavens… that man was Ra's al Ghul. Humanity had never birthed a greater evil than the architect of beautiful Azarath.

But the true soul of Azarath was his estranged wife Zara al Ghul who had become Azar; a kind and gentle mother to all of mankind. By her decree, only the most tragic of souls could journey to Azarath and heal from its spiritual light to replace those who had fallen before. And thus Raven's mother Angela Roth had been chosen to become Arella of Azarath.

And now she had found herself in her birth-land searching for her mother's tragic soul…

A mother who had sacrificed herself in front of Raven's _very_ eyes… a willing victim of the stone-faced God of Evil and his murderous Omega Beams. As the light of Azarath had been blotted from eternity by Trigon's curse, so too would Raven's human-half have been disintegrated by Darkseid's Omega Beams if not for her mother…

"Azarath's light _still_ remains, my child."

The voice made Raven turn to behold the glowing spirit of Azar floating beside her. As Raven's spirit-self was a dark, raven-shaped shadow, Azar was a being of soft light, a perfect reflection of herself as she had been in life. Raven stared at the spirit quizzically as Azar continued.

"The light lives in _you_, my dear. A thousand set of eyes gaze in sorrow at what was once our home… But in the end it was only stone, earth, wood and flesh. We are spirit, Raven, carried by the goddess."

"…_Goddess_?"

"You, Raven."

"Azar… my _mother_… where is _she_? Was her spirit destroyed? I believed she would come here…"

"She never left you, Raven. You carry her inside… as you carry us all."

An apparition appeared in the air before Raven… Unlike Azar, it was a shade of smoke and shimmering light, but it was Arella! Instantly, Raven's soul-self reshaped into her human form, if only to take her mother in her arms once more as the sun shone upon Azarath…

"I thought I had lost you…"

"I thought I _would_ lose you…"

"You _died_ to save me…"

"I once _lived_ to save you. And now you save us all. You are the miracle I once prayed for Raven."

"_Mother_…I don't think I'm strong enough… to defeat him."

"Strength, weakness, win, lose… these are _false_ things, daughter. There is life, there is death. There is light, there is dark. You will bring light to the darkness. You will bring life from death."

"I… don't understand."

"I too did not understand but for one _brief_ instance. You will, my dearest, you will…"

"…I'm _afraid_, mother. Afraid of what I may become."

"Let your fear be conquered by love. There is a man you love who needs you now…"

"Bruce!"

"Go to him, my child..."

* * *

Raven's eyes popped open to witness the scarred and craggy features of Orion's face before her. She was back in Elysium in her body. The New God had removed his helmet to hold her in his arms while Scott, Barda and Lightray looked on…

"Gods be _praised_! Fair cousin, we had feared the worst… Darkseid shall pay in equal measure for his crimes, Orion swears this to you!"

"_I will bring light to darkness_…" Raven felt as though she were still lost in a dream.

"Grief has overwhelmed you, cousin. Rest now, you are safe... Orion himself shall travel to Apokolips to tear asunder the Pact so that he may extract the terrible vengeance that is _due_, my Lady. The dread Lord of Apokolips shall be shown the justice that has been denied him for _far_ too long…"

Grinning Lightray popped his head next to Orion's…

"Grief would overwhelm _any_ maiden with an iota of sense when she is promised to hideous Kalibak!"

Smiling, Raven reached up her hand to rest it upon the battle-scarred cheek of the Dog of War. There was a rage that erupted inside him continually, anger beyond _any_ she had ever felt. This was a warrior unlike no other. It stirred her soul to battle, but she knew first what she must do…

"Patience, brave Orion... My husband needs me."

With that, she was gone, leaving Orion with tendril wisps of smoke snaking through his fingers where once Raven had been…

* * *

Barbara Gordon now hundreds of yards behind, Bruce Wayne crested the peak of a hill in night-draped Shiruta only to have the world suddenly come _crashing_ down upon him… Where there should be darkness, there was light. Where only quiet corpses should have littered the streets, there was movement and life.

The League had positioned themselves around the Wayne Data Center by the _hundreds_. Dozens of tanks, anti-aircraft weapons and soldiers surrounded his facility, ready to defend to the death.

Should the engine of destruction fire across the _entire_ world, Kahndaq alone would be spared. Its free-floating gamma-nites had been expended when the League had initially deployed his weapon as an example and the nanites could be made _not_ to reproduce… For the first time since crossing the river, he attempted to open a wi-screen…

Nothing...

There would be no calls for help… No secret programs to run. He had moments before dawn when the rest of the world would struggle for their last gasps of Sarin-laced breath and he was only one man against an army. He desperately scanned the streets for _anything_ that would help him push his way through that crowd, to get into his building…

Without warning, he felt the blade of the Wakizashi slide along his throat and a small, firm hand place itself upon the back of his shoulder. The slender assassin behind him slowly raised the blade - littering his stubble along its edges from the underside of his neck without breaking the skin… He had heard or felt _nothing_ until the blade was at his throat.

"Such a _noise_ in the river, Mr. Wayne… Should you expect to enter here alive?" It was a woman's voice. Her English was good, but there was a trace of accent… _Chinese_?

"_Who_?..."

"If you were you my master, you would know who I am, and this blade by its name."

"Your master is dead."

"The dead do not die."

"Not dead yet… contained."

"Are you buying time, Mr. Wayne? Time is expensive when the world has only moments to live… it would be a shame if you were to waste it on _lies_."

"I'm not lying… Ra's _is_ contained…"

Before him, Bruce made out the shape of a beautiful woman approaching in the moments before dawn in front of him. She walked confidently across the darkness towards them.

"_Shiva_! Release him at once!"

Bruce recognized the defiant, confident voice. Talia al Ghul stepped into the faint light in front of them. Six assassins followed the first daughter of the League, awaiting her every command.

"_Talia_…" The woman behind him spat the word. "You are not the master here, little witch."

"My father has been defeated. I _am_ master here."

"By _this_ man?" Bruce felt beads of perspiration trickle down his forehead as the tense blade lightly broke his skin. Six assassins had weapons pointed at the woman behind him.

Talia's voice sounded in his mind. Apparently telepathy was _also_ one of Talia al Ghul's many talents…

_'Bruce… Listen to me. This is very important. The rules are well defined. Did you defeat my father?'_

_'No, it was Barbara.'_

_'The red-headed woman in your employ?'_

_'Yes.'_

Talia spoke again…

"An agent in Wayne's employ defeated my father. This American President has supported my bid for control of the League."

"Is this _true_, man of Gotham?" Shiva's lips were next to his ear so that he felt her chilling breath, the blade was unmoving...

"I saved her life if that's what you mean."

"And you would use my blade to repay _your_ debt, Talia? So be it..." Shiva swung the blade forward and pushed Bruce forward into Talia so that he was finally able to take a breath once more. The black-haired Shiva continued…

"…But I demand this favor be _repaid_. Face me, girl! Prove to me that you are worthy of your father's title. Here and now…"

"Face _me _instead, assassin."

It was the voice Bruce had _longed_ to hear since he had set foot in the Pentagon. Turning, he saw Raven dressed in an outfit like the one she had worn the night he had fallen in love with her… The _first_ night they met. Her hooded cloak hid those piercing velvet eyes, her cloak flapped in the night breeze.

"_Impressive_ little girl, but tell me... why do you wish to die?"

"You threatened my husband's life."

"_Hmph_… I am the greatest martial artist this sorry world knows. I am named for _death_ itself. I can predict how you will die by the movement of your first step…"

Shiva tumbled face-first into the dirt, _unmoving_… Bruce looked at his wife again.

"Did you _kill_ her?"

"I dropped her soul off in Tibet. She will survive. Why are you _here_, my husband? Have you been captured?"

The glare from indigo eyes directed at Talia al Ghul let everyone know that this woman's very _existence_ was in jeopardy if her husband confirmed what Raven had suspected. The witch had been warned _once_ already…

"No Raven... Talia was actually _saving_ me… And you look _fantastic_ by the way. I believe Ra's al Ghul has programmed my engine of destruction to kill everyone in the world at dawn. It's inside that building over _there_; the Wayne Data Center in Kahndaq. Can you get us in? We have around two minutes…"

"...Wait for me!"

Behind them, they saw a _bare-footed_ Barbara Gordon scampering up the hill, trying to pick her way through the stones. Raven couldn't help but smile at the plight of the poor woman.

Black smoke swirled around Raven, Wayne, Barbara and Talia. They now suddenly found themselves inside an industrial building. Bruce and Barbara headed quickly towards a door marked "_Authorized Personnel Only_" while Raven placed a gentle hand upon Talia's shoulder following.

"I am sorry, Talia. I assumed the worst."

"You have made your position _very_ clear to me, Mrs. Wayne. Bruce saved my life in Washington, I only sought to repay the favor. It pains me that my father had no plans to include me in this little group of survivors…"

Loud curses from the room in front of them drew their attention back to the present as the two ladies entered a large room full of technology… and a giant concrete block at its center.

"He's encased the entire thing in _concrete_!"

Bruce ran to a large, locked panel box on the wall, kicking it repeatedly until it opened… Desperately, he dragged the large breaker switches it contained to the off positions. The lights dimmed, and turned off entombing them in complete blackness while Bruce breathed a heavy sigh of relief…

Until they heard a massive diesel engine start somewhere below the facility and the lights flicked on once more. The back up generator… Panic-stricken, Bruce started looking for a fire axe while Barbara attempted to open a wi-screen with no success. Ra's al Ghul had left _nothing_ to chance.

"There's no _time_! He's sealed off all the engine's breakers as well…"

Raven stopped her husband and placed her hands upon the sides of his stricken face. In a moment where time stood still, she stared deeply into his blue eyes and kissed him gently…

"Forgive me for what I must do, my love…"

Bruce still felt the light pressure of Raven's fingers and lips upon him as his lover disappeared into a mist of black smoke, leaving the three of them alone in the room with a device that would send a signal to end all humanity in only seconds…


	106. Chapter 106

**CVI  
****_Meanwhile at the Pentagon…_**

He felt like the old codger character in some crazy, late-night sci-fi flick…

A month ago, the Wayne Industries stealth suit that made its wearer _invisible_ had been revolutionary. General Tyrexius Johnson immediately saw the military and espionage applications in that suit. He was sure it was going to be the greatest military breakthrough of his generation.

He was wrong…

Wayne had done _much_ better than that a full ten years before… A weapon that could instantly kill everyone on Earth with one simple command. The '_engine of destruction_' he had called it. And it was... Just ask Kahndaq.

And now General Liang had given him an abbreviated briefing on her LexCorp findings… A giant cannon in space that shot a beam backwards in time, dozens of Lex Luthor clones (some of which were over twenty years old), robots that could pass as humans, brain transplant operations, and enough Kryptonite to power Three Mile Island.

Even better was that a giant, red devil called Trigon had descended to now-dead Kahndaq, brought along his demon hoard and immediately demanded a face-to-face with his new Commander-In-Chief and the First Lady; a President who (for all his flaws) he actually _liked_. To prove he was serious, Trigon had pasted every citizen of Bialya on the face of the moon.

To top it all off, Lex Luthor had eliminated his nine superior officers on a whim, all good men and women. Johnson was now the top general in this madhouse known as the Pentagon while his President was flying to meet the supernatural. Every single nation on the planet had been on Red Alert for hours and he had _personally_ begged most of them not to deploy a nuclear option, _especially_ while his President was en route. One didn't listen.

It was Qurac who had made the fatal mistake.

As Bruce's jet finished its landing in Kahndaq, the hostile neighbor had launched four nuclear missiles; two at the American President and two at Trigon. The War Room become an instant flurry of activity as they could only _watch_, frantically attempting to alert the President who had only _just_ landed… but with no success. Calls to Big Blue were also unsuccessful.

But all four missiles had _disappeared_ the moment they crossed the border of Kahndaq - only to suddenly reappear over the capital of Qurac. The American President had been spared, but it had cost a nation dearly. Estimates put the initial death toll at three hundred thousand dead in the resulting explosion. But that wasn't the worst. It had taken the Lab team ten minutes to figure out where the rest of Qurac had gone… They had fallen into the middle of the Persian Gulf from two miles up. There had been no survivors.

No other nations had mentioned a nuclear option since then.

General Johnson had finally been able to reach the First Armored Division, to inform them they had just avoided certain death. He was less than elated however when Captain Thomas Bradley informed him that the President who was supposed to accompany them had been absconded by Big Blue and that Talia al Ghul had just been kidnapped by '_six men in ninja costumes, wearing flight suits_'…

Intelligence had tracked Big Blue and President Wayne to a rooftop in Shiruta where satellite imagery showed two more individuals just 'pop in'. But this party wasn't over. Two more men just _appeared_ after Big Blue had taken off into the sky. And then everyone left except one.

It had taken them a moment to establish the identity of Barbara Gordon who had driven the President across the dark streets of Shiruta on the back of a motorcycle, _away_ from Trigon. Johnson had tried to reach either of them by wi-screen several times, but the signal was very hit and miss. And then they headed directly into a congregation of people where no people should have been.

But now, in the middle of the War Room, some screen-jockey Corporal was telling him that Bruce Wayne, the man they had somehow managed to keep track of this entire time, the leader of the free world, had disappeared… General Johnson had done such a fine job keeping composed up to this point.

"Are you _actually_ telling me that you've lost the President, Corporal? The third President this country has seen in as many days and now you're saying that Military Intelligence doesn't even know where he is?!"

"I'm _sorry_, General Johnson… There's a lot of interference in Kahndaq… Hold on… He's back! He's in the… Wayne Data Center in Kahndaq… about eleven hundred yards from his last known location."

"So President Wayne just traveled over half-a-mile in 2 seconds then?"

"_Ahhhh_…. Yes sir."

"…Where's Big Blue?"

"Still on his way back from the Sun, sir."

"That doesn't really answer my question, Corporal."

"Sorry General. He's been incredibly difficult to track since he left our atmosphere heading towards the Sun. He maxed out at over three hundred million miles per hour. We've had to use extrapolation software and light trails to calculate even a projected whereabouts."

"So Big Blue left Kahndaq, flew around the Sun and is now traveling back towards Earth?"

"Yes Sir."

"And do we know where he intends on landing?"

"No Sir… But at current velocity, it won't matter. The lab has calculated that when he does impact, it will be an extinction event."

"An extinction event for whom exactly?"

"_Everyone_, General… Big Blue will impact with enough force to knock the Earth off its axis..."

"Goddammit, what's his ETA?"

"Just under one minute, Sir…"

"…Excuse me, General Johnson?" _Another_ interruption.

"Yes, Captain Walters, what is it? _Another_ sign of the Apocalypse?"

"No Sir. We're getting a strange visual four miles south of Big Red…"

"Fine… Let's bring it onscreen."

"Yes, sir!"

"… What _the_… Are _those_… _supermodels_?"

"We're not sure, General... They're all female and dressed in what appears to be ancient Grecian armor. They've been hacking their way through the demons on a collision course with Big Red for close to an hour now. They're doing quite well actually."

"Well, that's just _fantastic_… I'll call off those seventy Abrams tanks we've got rolling in from the west if these ladies have the situation under control. But according to Corporal _End-Of-The-World_ over here, it won't matter in about forty seconds!"

"Sir…Big Blue seems to be _decelerating_…"

"Well, that's good news at least. Maybe he spotted the supermodels..."

"He's still coming in _very_ fast…"

"Just how fast?"

"If he maintains current deceleration… he'll be traveling roughly sixty-five million miles per hour when he hits our atmosphere."

"Damn! That _is_ fast…What's that compared to light speed?"

"About… one-tenth, Sir."

"So will that cause an extinction event?"

"The Lab says… Probably not, Sir. But it will be _at least_ the equivalent of a one hundred megaton explosion."

"Just like the Cold War days…"

"Excuse me, Sir?"

"Forget it Corporal, you're too young to remember. And the President is still in a well-fortified Data Center?"

"Yes, sir."

"I need someone to calculate the odds of that building surviving if a 100 megaton explosion occurred with Big Red as point zero. I have a pretty good idea of what our Boy in Blue is up to now and why Wayne headed the _opposite_ direction…"

"… The Lab says that they will need some time to get the building specs…"

"Forget I asked. Just how far away is that building from Big Red, Corporal?"

"… Two hundred, twenty-four miles, Sir."

"_Alright_… that'll be far enough. They must have coordinated a _new_ attack plan on that rooftop. Let's just hope Wayne and Big Blue know what they're doing…"

At that moment, thousands of miles away in Kahndaq, the first light of dawn crested across the cold sands…

The War Room went suddenly dark… quiet.

Where one hundred wi-screens had illuminated the briefing room only a second before, they had now vanished…

Someone in the War Room coughed…


	107. Chapter 107

**CVII  
Our Own Brave New World**

In his data storage facility in Shiruta, Bruce Wayne watched as the thin, black smoke of Raven's departure dissipated through his still hands. She had left him again and asked for his forgiveness… _Why_? He was the one that was responsible for the impending extinction of humanity and she had left him… Forgive _her_ for leaving? He was only surprised she hadn't left him sooner…

He steadied himself against the giant concrete block that encased the only possible means to averting disaster. T.S. Elliot had been correct: the world would indeed end with a _whimper, _gasping_. _But he had to keep trying…

"Talia… Is there _any_ way to turn this damned thing off?!"

"My father was a very thorough man, Bruce Wayne. He means for the world to die?"

"Yes... He called himself the '_Champion of the Green_'. His entire plan was that the plants would reclaim the Earth… Apparently, they _talked_ to him. Those who remained would be only slaves for plant life."

"Slaves?… Surely even you must see the opportunity here? I have five hundred members surrounding this facility… strong men _and_ women. Our own brave, new world…"

"…You're as _insane_ as your father!" Barbara Gordon could _not_ believe what she was hearing.

"My dear, close your mouth and listen. Should humanity perish, there will be only one who leads an army… _me_. But we may rule _together_, Bruce."

"Raven _will_…"

Talia's finger shot out to next to Barbara's still-moving lips to silence her, whispering a '_shhh'_ sound as her finger rested directly over Barbara's mouth. The red-headed VP glared at the dark-haired matriarch of the League - the fire in her cold blue eyes scorching the calm, almond eyes of Talia – enraged at this insult.

As the scarlet woman snatched the offending finger from her mouth, Barbara Gordon suddenly collapsed into an unconscious heap on the floor.

"A simple trick your wife uses, Mr. Wayne."

"_Have_ you… Is she alright?"

"Oh, I will deal with her later. But let us speak alone now…"

Talia al Ghul stepped over the prone form of Barbara Gordon to rest her hands upon Bruce Wayne's firm chest, his back suddenly against the large concrete block. He could feel her fingers dancing across his shirt upon straining chest muscles. She slowly brought herself _closer_ to his body until he could feel her heat and the passion within her…

"Do you remember the words I spoke to you in the elevator, Bruce? That in another life we must have been lovers?... Is this not _another_ life… a _new_ beginning for us?"

"Talia… I'm married to Raven… she is my Fate…"

"Raven has gone to her father, Bruce. I feel her betrayal _here_." Talia took his hand and placed it firmly on her breast, just over her beating heart. "Your wife is _lost_ to you. Now there is only you and I. When the rest of the world dies, what is left for Trigon? Only what he came for… his daughter. He has new worlds to conquer. And what he leaves behind of this world, beloved… is _ours_."

Bruce jerked his head aside as her sensual lips moved forward to taste his own. But she would not be denied. She continued to kiss his neck gently, her warm, perfect body pushed against his own while her hand eased lower, sliding between his legs…

"I _know_ she has been unkind to you, beloved… What earthly pleasures she has denied, I could grant you _ten-fold _for each and every night of your life..."

He placed his hands on her shoulders and _pushed_ Talia away. Bruce Wayne's cold eyes stared at her with distrust…

"How could you know _that_, Talia?"

"There are parts of your soul that whisper to me… begging for my touch. The love you would deny us, that has been denied to you for so long, let me share it with you. This world is ours. We will make it better. I will take away _all_ your pain..."

"My pain makes me the man I am. I had to learn that the _hard_ way. And there's only one woman's touch I would _ever_ beg for…Raven's. I belong with her… And when did you start pushing souls _out_ of their body, Talia? You certainly could have used that trick on Luthor only yesterday…"

"Clever, detective…"

Bruce's worst fears began to crystallize when he saw a wide smile cross Talia's face… a smile that did _not_ belong to her. Something fundamental changed in her features as her amber eyes now _glowed_…

He _knew_ who this was. God help him, he knew.

"A last moment of happiness, Bruce Wayne… _wasted_. Perhaps I should have used the fire-haired bitch after all... But then, I do rather fancy her for _myself…_ Would you like a_ little sister_, Raven?…"

Evil laughter emitted from Talia al Ghul and flooded out all of his remaining senses. The room shifted as all bearings of sanity slipped from his mind to the encroaching darkness that engulfed him from below... until he was submerged in blackest Hell.

Grasping beneath him, he found Barbara's still unconscious body near his feet and managed to cover her with his own body as _things_ from another reality grasped at him, pulling him towards certain doom. There was no Raven to protect him on this journey across dimensions. His love had been tested and he had passed. But that would not guarantee him safe passage.

Slick with ectoplasm from the clutching appendages of things _beyond_ this world, Bruce Wayne was spit out into the cold, desert air with Barbara, still in one piece… The cold winds of dark Kahndaq chilled him to the core as he found acclimated to ground and stood up, leaving his friend at his feet.

"_Bruce_!"

Frantically wiping the slime from his eyes, he turned towards the voice he knew so well in the darkness, his wife slowly blurring into focus. She stood beautifully on the sands only twenty feet away, a divine creature of serenity. She should have been the _first_ thing he noticed. He should have run to her ecstatically, taking her into his arms to end this long nightmare…

But he could not.

Because he saw a _foot_. The nightmare had followed him into reality.

Irrational panic stirred a memory in his mind of a different time - a lifetime ago. He had been eight and his parents had taken him for the first time to see the Statue of Liberty on Bedloe's Island in Gotham harbor.

From a distance, it looked like any other statue. But he remembered standing at its base, looking up at this gigantic, frightening lady... She almost seemed _alive_. His parents tried to explain the significance and history of the massive structure. Their words didn't matter, only the awesome enormity of the statue mattered to the child.

He felt like that now. Except this was _no_ lady. This skin was not the green of the copper he remembered as a child. It was dark red. And alive. But it was the same _size_. A white sash – as large as _all_ the sails of a tall ship combined – ruffled in the breeze twenty feet above him, hanging between the giant's massive, muscled legs. A ton of alien metal crafted the greaves that encased his calves.

There was nothing subtle about this two-hundred-foot tall god. He was strength and power on a scale that did not exist on this world. Terror rose within Bruce as _every_ primal instinct he knew screamed at him to turn and flee. When he remained frozen in place, every rational instinct cautioned him to fall on his knees and grovel before this mighty terror.

But like a child of eight again, Bruce Wayne remained standing and staring up in awe at his father-in-law…

Trigon.


	108. Chapter 108

**Author's Note:** The events of "_The Deal_" happen just after Raven left Bruce in the data facility and shortly before he is summoned by Trigon.

* * *

**CVIII  
The Deal**

In a moment where time had stood still in a data facility… As her husband teetered on the brink of insanity, staring down the Abyss at the death of seven billion people, Raven placed her hands upon his flushed cheeks, and stared deeply into those blue eyes she loved so well. Hopelessness overwhelmed him in the thought that Ra's al Ghul had ensured his final victory over humankind.

But there was _another_ hope…

"Forgive me for what I must do, my love…"

She kissed her husband for perhaps the last time… leaving him alone with the swirling black smoke of her sudden departure. There was nothing he could do now.

She reappeared one hundred and ninety feet above the desert, levitating as she peered into massive yellow eyes shining in the night that were half as tall as she. Her sudden arrival had not shocked this crimson giant who held their last possible chance…

"Mighty Trigon… I _beg_ of you…"

"Only you, daughter? You're missing two people to beg of me."

His voice echoed with power throughout the night sky. She was aware that his omniscient power made him conscious of every action taken on Earth. But still, perhaps his eyes did not view far Elysium…

"My mother is dead."

"A pity. No matter, I was going to kill her anyways. I will accept the fire-hair in her place."

"Mighty Trigon, of my own free will, I _beg_ of you…"

"Call me _father_. You're the only living thing in the Universe that could."

"Father... _please_! Humanity will perish in moments _unless_…"

"Another world falls, Raven. Do not be disheartened. There is a beauty in this that I can teach you. I will show you everything! I will offer you a Universe of your own making! What matters of the fate of this world that cares _nothing_ for you?"

"Father…You had offered me a _choice_ – to destroy this world by _my_ own hand. That choice is rendered meaningless... Your disciple has engaged my husband's weapon to destroy all people in but brief moments. Ra's al Ghul has usurped my right to accept or deny your lesson."

"There _was_ a lesson to be learned here... had I not grown _bored_ in the waiting and the predictability of _that_ choice. You care _nothing_ for your potential and too much for these wretches who despise you. But let us make a _deal_, shall we?... I will spare this world from your beloved man's device, and then you will follow me."

"I will."

"Bah, what _use_ has the mighty Trigon for a mewling human child obsessed by moping love? These terms are _unacceptable_. Let us raise the stakes then… I will spare this loathsome world from your mortal's device. And then... this mortal man you love, Bruce Wayne, will choose _your_ fate…"

"…I do not understand."

"Simply this: If your lover Bruce Wayne, of his own free will, chooses to abandon you for another… then he has forfeited Raven and she is _mine_. If he would cast aside the love he holds for you, then that love is gone… _forever_! Raven becomes the true and loyal daughter of Trigon, as she was destined to be. And then - by my blessing - it shall be _your_ hand that destroys this world, the first of many… Do you agree, Raven?"

"Bruce will be allowed to choose _freely_? It will be him, as he is now, that makes the decision?"

"Of course, the decision will be his alone. Hurry, little Raven, the Eastern sky begins to match the color of your frightened eyes…"

"…_Three times_! You can only tempt him three times, father. And it must be with a fate where he and I have never met. I will not be used as the tool of his decision."

"Clever, girl…_Agreed_… I shall only tempt him three times with worlds where you have never met. And should he choose another, the two of you shall never meet. Is this acceptable to you?"

"I agree to your terms…"

…Time and space _disappeared_ around her the instant she finished that sentence.

She found herself once again in a familiar place… even if she were to close her eyes tightly, she knew where this place was… The infinite distance which had taken Raven hours to cross with Barda in tow, her father had now traveled in the blink of an eye with a power _far_ superior to her own.

Bathed in the light of the Source once again, she stood beside her father, shrunken to only eight feet tall, in the realm of Fate. Had he grown to a _thousand_ feet, it would not have mattered. Before the enormous tree Yggdrasil, with its width stretching beyond the limits of her eyesight, all size was inconsequential.

Before them she saw the three Norns; Urd, Verdandi and Skuld bowing. Each of the Fates held an ancient watering bucket that had been plunged infinite times into the Sea of Oblivion which lapped upon their shores. But now these three buckets awaited Raven and Trigon. This was a ceremony.

"Let Fate _itself_ bear witness to our deal, daughter… so it must be for the thread of iron."

Using his black thumbnail, Trigon slid it quickly across his crimson fingertip to draw black blood. As a drop began to form, he held it over the bucket of Urd, so that one droplet of his ichor fell and coiled like a serpent in the water below.

"_To change the past."_

He then moved his finger onto Verdandi's bucket, allowing another drop to fall.

"_To cast the present."_

Finally, he placed his bleeding finger over Skuld's bucket for one final drop.

"_To create the future."_

"And now my part is done, young Raven. Will you spill your blood for the Deal?"

Her mind raced as she considered _all_ possibilities. Bruce's love for her would have to be _absolute_ yet they had been together for a year! Their love was strong, but would it be strong enough?... Would he choose her over _all_ others? But the consequences of inaction were far too severe. This man she loved - his mind, even his very soul - would be _shattered_ if his engine of destruction engaged.

The fate of the entire world… _worlds_…. would depend upon the love they shared.

"I accept."

Trigon smiled gleefully as he offered his thumbnail to Raven, for her to draw blood from her own finger and take the vows…

"Please Mistress; it would favour me greatly if you were to use _this_."

Raven felt the extreme anger arise from her father as Verdandi suddenly presented the young woman with a silver needle the Norn had drawn from her leather belt. As the bright needle was held beside the demon's thumbnail, Raven noticed a small gleam of his black blood across the jagged edge. Trigon was _incensed_…

"My blood _already_ flows through her veins, Norn!"

"Lord Trigon, it is Mistress Raven's blood who flows through her veins. The light of the Source does not shine from within her."

There was a history here, but Raven had no idea what it meant. The Source _within_?... She would have contemplate it later.

"Thank you, Verdandi… I would be _honored_."

Raven carefully took Verdandi's needle, and instantly felt the immeasurable magic of creation radiate around it. It was Verdandi who was the Weaver of Fate, and this was the very needle of its eternal tapestry…

With a deep breath, Raven held her finger above Urd's bucket, her father's black blood swirling like an eel below. In her mind she pictured Bruce… _so that we may never forget one moment of our time together, my love_… Raven pierced her finger with Verdandi's needle, watching the drop of blood fall to the dark water below as she recited the verse:

"_To change the past."_

She then placed her finger over fair Verdandi's bucket, pricking her finger as her mind recited her true thoughts… _so that my love may be with you every moment_…

"_To cast the present."_

Finally, she placed her finger over young Skuld's bucket, watching the last drop of blood fall… _for hope, my love, that may it live in our hearts forever_…

"_To create the future."_

Reverently, Raven placed the needle back in Verdandi's waiting hand so that she slipped it back into her belt.

"Thank you, Verdandi."

All three Norns dutifully carried their buckets to the edge of the Great Tree and emptied the liquid contents at its edge. The blood of Raven and Trigon spilled against Yggdrasil to be drawn into its mighty trunk to be cast into the branches above.

Her fate - and the fate of the entire world - now rested solely in her husband's hands. Should his love falter… should Trigon lure him into temptation, this world ended by _her_ hands.

The three Norns turned to face them once more, speaking as one to confirm the covenant had begun.

"The deal is done."

Trigon smiled wickedly at his daughter as he placed a powerful hand upon her shoulder. The crushing weight of the world suddenly bore down upon her once more. Before he transported them back to the sands of Kahndaq, he gazed at her in mirthful contempt with all of his four leering eyes…

"Love teaches a _painful_ lesson in betrayal, my child. Learn it well."


	109. Chapter 109

**CIX  
The Hand That Is Dealt**

Bruce stood at the foot of colossal Trigon… completely overwhelmed by the magnitude of power standing before him. A newborn could not feel as helpless as he did now. Without even realizing it, his thumb had moved over the button on his cufflink, to take perhaps the only chance he had… a tachyon cannon in space that shot backwards in time…

But he turned to look at Raven. His wife was alive… but _silent_. Her eyes were downcast to the unforgiving sands below, the breaking dawn unable to hide the tears in her eyes. Bruce could feel the powerful sadness, the despair that overwhelmed Raven from twenty feet away… What had Trigon _done_ to her?!

Two hundred feet above him, the first rays of the morning lit the tips of the demon's antlers, cast from primordial bone, to remind him of the true horror that was the _dawn_! The weight of the world Bruce Wayne folded in upon him. In his insane lust for vengeance, he had created the tool which had allowed Ra's al Ghul to obtain his final victory…

In that exact second, Bruce knew he had sanctioned the murder of every man, woman and child on the face of the Earth. All livestock, every wild animal, the entire kingdom of fauna…

Destroyed.

Sinking to his knees, there could now be no other plea. Guilty. Nor could there be a better judge and executioner for his crimes than the merciless god who faced him now… Trigon the Terrible.

In his confessional heart, he begged forgiveness from his mother and father, from Richard, from Alfred, from Barbara, and from his wife – it was Raven he had betrayed the most. To the end, she had remained by his side, never knowing his terrible secret until it was too late… The voice of Trigon came down on him like a pronouncement, but it was a _question_…

"Can you guess what I hold in my hand, mortal?"

Far above, Bruce could only view the backside of the giant's crimson hand, not what he held on the other side. Bruce only knew that Trigon held his death sentence, of that there was no doubt.

The man suddenly felt himself being raised into the air… _floating_. As the sun creased the Eastern horizon, Bruce was levitated high above the sands of Kahndaq - to be raised level with the object suspended above the demon's large hand.

The sun on his back cast Bruce's shadow across a solid black sphere, perhaps ten feet in diameter, slick with liquid. There was something _evil_ about it, almost as if it were alive…

A foul smile crossed Trigon's yellowed maw as Bruce realized what floated before him… Every single nanite that Wayne Industries had put into the atmosphere had been gathered and compressed into this one, single black orb. The exhibit of his guilt for an unnecessary trial… but if his nanites were _here_?!

Clear liquid Sarin - enough to kill every breathing organism on Earth - squeezed through particles smaller than dust… oozing suspended within a glimmering poison sphere. And if the poison was here, Trigon had saved everyone, had saved _him_… but _why_?

"Would you like to see a magic trick, Bruce? You like magic…"

In the flourishing gesture of a stage magician, Trigon's free hand passed quickly in front of the sickly sphere, so that Bruce lost sight of it for only a split second. But this was no mere sleight of hand, his engine of destruction was now… gone!

"_Where_?..."

"That all depends on _you_, and the choice you make…"

It was the first sound he had heard from his wife since his arrival, a scream of '_NOOOO!'_ one-hundred-and-fifty feet below… only to _end_ as abruptly as it began. Silence… With every beat of his heart, the fear in him grew.

"So many interruptions, so little time… She is not allowed to interfere in the deal we shall make, Bruce Wayne. She cares for you far _too_ much. In her heartfelt love, she has declared that she will follow me if I absolve this world of your deadly device of poison. And now I have..."

"_Thank you_." Alfred had ingrained manners _far_ too deeply into Bruce.

"But where does it _go_, Bruce? Into cold, empty space? Into the sun? A barren rock in space? Or perhaps on one of the hundred worlds I know of which are similar to your own, populated by fellow air-breathers… It waits upon your choice.

But there is one _more_ condition, mortal… My daughter only wishes for your happiness… It is within me to grant _all_ that you desire. I can change the cruel workings of Fate to give you a life that was denied you. The finest world of what _might_ have been… will be yours if you but desire it. Nothing is beyond the realm of possibility…"

Trigon looked gravely into the purple sky… a grim expression narrowed all four of his eyes. The smile had left him.

"… One moment."

Bruce suddenly found himself encased in a translucent, crimson bubble descending to the ground. Raven and Barbara suddenly appeared beside him - also encased in this thick bubble of scarlet force field. From above, Trigon looked down at them briefly, before turning his attention back to new day's skies above.

The massive demon raised his right hand - as if to hold it over the noon sun.

And then what happened next… happened in a _nanosecond_.

The entire sky lit up. Bruce's vision went white as spots burned across his retinas from the white-hot sky. It was when he _heard_ the high-pitched whining _scream_ of an object that had crossed the atmosphere at 65,000,000 miles an hour - and the incredible fusion boom of its impact two hundred feet above him that he _knew…_ all Hell had broken loose.

* * *

Four miles to the west, Captain Thomas Bradley rolled along the sands of Kahndaq. All seventy tanks of the First Armoured Division traveled with him, a rolling cavalry of thunder bearing towards their target - leaving a wide dust storm in their wake.

They had fought long and hard to get into firing range of Big Red. A firestorm of 120mm Depleted Uranium smoothbore rounds that could cut through bank vaults awaited Trigon. General Johnson had given him the _all-clear_… the President was over 200 miles from the action, tucked safely away.

Since the President had left, it hadn't been an easy road. They had originally fought the _ugliest_ things he had ever seen with their Browning M2 and M240 machine guns - which had worked well - but they had soon realized that the best strategy was to simply put the petal to the metal - and drive _over_ the amalgamations of horrid flesh-lumps. There were thousands of them that constantly attacked them! But the demons did leave a nice smudge in the sand when you managed to catch one of them under your treads…

Seconds ago, their wi-screens had gone out, but luckily the tanks were retro-fitted. Switching over to older hardware, Captain Bradley could easily make out the giant red unfriendly silhouetted by the sunrise in front of them. They were about to hit him _hard_…

As he witnessed the sudden flash of light across the eastern sky, and then saw the sphere of white radiance begin to form, he screamed "_NUKE! NUKE!_" to everyone across all channels. Why hadn't the damned Pentagon warned them about this?! Stealth nukes?

Each tank was plated with steel-encased, depleted Uranium Chobham composite – which gave them an excellent chance of survival from a nuclear strike at four miles. They jammed on the brakes, battened down all hatches, and prepared for the shockwave – breaking out the Nuke-suits…

* * *

Covered by the black gore of countless dead atrocities, Princess Diana of Themyscira sliced through yet another deadly appendage of the demons that swarmed the Amazons. A trail of demon entrails stretched behind them for miles to the shoreline where they had landed… but _still_ these things came for more!

The Oracle of Themyscira had prophesized of the coming of The Great Evil, piecing together signs for the past twenty-two years. And now Diana caught glimpses of these demons' crimson master, a giant demon – foretold to have the power to wipe out the world of man and Amazon _alike_. A number of her sisters had fallen… what was left of them would be retrieved and honoured, but for now the battle raged on.

The power of the gods lit the sky above her like the midday sun… had her father _himself_ taken a hand in their battle to strike from above?! Had the cries of merciful Hera swayed mighty Zeus to action?

The straight lightning sliced apart the sky itself to strike the King of demons… and then _grew!_… A column of continual lightning raised to the clouds, threatening to create a hole through Gaea _herself_! Something in Diana told her to get down - she screamed at her sisters, transfixed by the spectacle of destruction before them, to do the same. Diana dug her immortal shield of stars into the rock below as scores of demons stopped and stared…

The land… the land itself was forming a tidal wave… a wave lost in the yellow-brown shockwave of sand that was rapidly becoming the air. Merciful Hera brought other Amazon warriors to the ground to join Diana as it hit… a crushing wave of sound, air, heat and dust that flayed skin from demons - tossing them away in its awesome wrath.

The remaining warriors had suffered the worst of the wind when the land _itself_ rippled, like a wave on the ocean, tossing them as an autumn wind tosses dry leaves. The air was hard to breath now… choked with fine dust, like particulate fog, the oxygen burned away.

Blinded, Diana landed some distance back, now feeling the shifting earth below. It was as though Gaea _herself_ trembled. By the Gods, what a _strike_! The warrior princess did not know how many of her sisters had survived the terrible vengeance of Zeus, but no Devil could have survived _that_!

Boulders that had been tossed into the sky to kiss the invisible clouds above, now fell back to Earth with tremendous _whomps_, some landing _far_ too close for her liking but impossible to avoid because dust fog. Princess Diana of Themyscira still held her sword and shield. She still drew breath. She did what any surviving Amazon was expected to do…

She continued forward.

* * *

For Bruce, it was like being a spectator at the heart of a nuclear explosion… a witness to what Richard must have experienced. The pain of that loss magnified countless times as he saw the true destructive might of the Universe at work. For the first split second, he had thought he saw creation _itself_ through the red opulent force field until lightning flashed a million times around them.

Shielding his eyes, looking down, he witnessed the earth disappearing below him, as though he were being raised hundreds of feet without momentum into the air… But they _weren't_ moving. The earth itself had disintegrated below them - a crater had eventually formed at least 300 feet deep, perhaps half-a-mile across.

At its base, a lake of lava awaited, the heat from the impact had melted rock which now flowed to its bottom. That same heat had turned the sands on the edges of the crater to a brown glass... The Gates of Hell had been knocked loose and Bruce, Raven and Barbara now hung precariously above them. And yet… the bubble still _held_.

It was this realization that reignited the terrors in his heart… his logical mind had spoken without any thought of the consequences… for if the bubble had _held_, then Trigon… Trigon must be… slowly, he cast his eyes towards where the crimson giant had beenbefore… _no, no, no_… to spot the same enormous foot, connected to the same mammoth leg… _no, no, no_… willing his damnable eyes _not_ to follow upwards, they still did.

His gaze drifted past the same torso and followed along the outstretched arm… to finally look upon the extended red hand, the hand that had performed the magic trick only a moment ago, to catch sight of a falling star. But this was a star shaped like a _man_ that glowed like the sun…

In this nightmare of vision, only two words from this god threatened to dislodge Bruce from his own sanity. None of this could be real. For surely, holding onto what _must_ have been Clark, who had used himself as a projectile of astronomical proportions to cause _untold_ devastation, Trigon remained.

The demon spoke two simple words that became an epiphany to Bruce – that reached into Pandora's Box to squeeze the fragile life out of its last remaining occupant, destroying _any_ hope humanity ever may have had…

"That… _hurt_."


	110. Chapter 110

**CX  
For The Man Who Had Everything**

The crimson force field enclosing Bruce, Barbara and Raven suddenly '_popped'_ - leaving the three friends suspended a full three hundred feet in the air - above a molten lake of fire. Panic gripped Bruce as he prepared himself to fall to certain death… but he did _not_. He collapsed on an invisible floor, but he could still _feel_ the rising heat from the writhing lava below.

The heat left when Trigon sadistically lowered his right hand to Bruce and Raven, to show them the thing he held. They went suddenly _cold_. Bruce couldn't even tell if the bloody pulp that _had_ been Clark was still alive…

Like trash, Trigon tossed the body at their feet, to crash upon the nonexistent floor they stood on. He watched as Kryptonian blood still spilled from Clark, to pool along the invisible plain and gasped at the gruesome sight that had been America's greatest weapon. Thankful that Barbara wasn't conscious to witness the awful spectacle, but even she seemed distressed in her comatose state…

"I believe this is _yours_." A terrible grin now spread across the wicked lips of Trigon...  
"Now for the matter of _retribution_, where shall I send the three-hundred-and-eighty-million souls from your country, Mr. Wayne?...  
Perhaps Mars?"

"This attack was not sanctioned, Trigon."  
_Clark you idiot! _

"An attack is an attack, rules are rules…"

"You destroyed his home world…" Raven glared up at her father "All three billion people, to feed your appetite for death."

"_Did I?..." _One hundred and seventy feet above, Trigon stroked his colossal chin with his thumb in reminiscence...  
"Oh Yes! The blonde girl who flew around like a gnat shooting me with her heat vision! How could I forget?! An ungodly place, _far_ too clever. It's true Raven… I destroyed that world _utterly_. Extinct down to the smallest microbe, punished until the land itself radiated death and ruptured into space. But his world _destroyed_ souls for energy. Hubris against the Gods. And now to think… its last, its greatest son... After all this time, burning with hate, seeking revenge on the God who killed his ungodly world, only to perish… like _this_. There is a lesson here, Bruce Wayne."

" Is _he_?..."

"He's alive… for now. Choose wisely, Mr. Wayne. It is time…"

Raven watched as her father and husband disappeared as she finally exhaled. She had to get Barbara back _immediately_ before any more damage was done. She wasn't even sure if she could bring her friend back. She could ease Clark's pain later, but not even the healing arts of merciful Azar could do much else for him now.

In her heart, she knew Bruce traveled _elsewhere_… Through the threads of Fate itself. A universe of possibilities spread before her husband, all that he ever could have been… he now could be. All he could ever wish for, save one small thing, could now be his. Not as a dream, but as reality, with her father tempting him at every corner…

But if he were to choose _any_ other thread but hers, she would be lost to him…

And to herself

Forever.

"Come back to me soon, my love…"

* * *

Bruce Wayne awoke from a _terrible_ dream…

He was in his bedroom, alone in the dark, sweating, but it felt different… _He_ was different. On a bed too small, staring at his hands in the darkness, he realized what it was… he was young again! He was a twelve-year-old boy.

_God_!… and he remembered this room. The familiar posters of bands he had long outgrown, his trading cards spread into neat piles, the autographed baseball that his Dad had bought for him when they went to their first game together… all here again. But this had also been the room he had silently cried himself to sleep night-after-night, careful not to let Alfred hear his sobs for fear of distressing the old servant...

This was not what he expected. Wayne had imagined Trigon's offer would be similar to Dickens' _A Christmas Carol_ with him playing the part of Ebenezer Scrooge – floating above the shades of things that _were_, that could _be_… but no, this was _real_. This was Bruce as a twelve year old boy with the mind and memories of the man he would become. He felt the coiled springs of the mattress, the still of the room, the nervous energy of youth coursing through him…

_Or was it that a child could dream the life of a man?_

There was a gentle knock at his bedroom door. Bruce knew it would be Alfred, checking up on him as he had done countless times in the past. The old man must have had heard him when he awoke…

But it wasn't Alfred.

Martha Wayne peered into his bedroom to look at him.

Martha Wayne, his lost mother… her dark hair tied in a bun, wearing the red silk bathrobe he had forgotten with her secret smile, the one that was _his_ alone… everything he remembered and everything he didn't now walked across the floor of his old bedroom towards him… and spoke.

"Hi, Tiger, you OK?"

How could he answer? What could he say to her? Her voice was like a symphony to him.

"Still waking up?... That's OK, sweetheart, I wanted to talk with you anyways." She gently sat on the bed next to him. Dear God, he could even _smell_ her, _feel_ her presence…

"You're going to hear about it on the news anyways, but I wanted you to hear it from me _first_… The CIA contacted me today, there were some foreign men who wanted to destroy the place where your Dad and I work, but the agents caught them before they could hurt anyone. I don't want you to worry, Bruce. We live in a great country, who protects us from people like those men, but that doesn't mean bad things _can't_ happen…"

"…You _died_."

She held him tight.

The final embrace he had been denied his entire adult life, that final chance to say good-bye before a crashing jet and fire stole his parents from him. He held her close as she stroked his hair…

"Is that what you _dreamed_, sweetheart? No wonder you're so upset… but we're still here. Your Dad, Alfred and I are still here. We'll always be here for you…"

"…I missed you."

"You only went to bed three hours ago, silly. Now cheer up, it was only a bad dream. And you have a birthday coming up. That will be fun, won't it? Just think about your friends, your family and all the presents. Happy thoughts, Bruce. And I hear there's going to be a magic show…"

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too." A gentle kiss on his forehead. "Now get some sleep, Bruce."

"…Good bye, Mom."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

He held the tears back until after she had left the room. He had never realized it until just now, but his mother's gentle kiss was exactly like the one…

* * *

Alfred's hands suddenly lifted from his eyes to reveal what he had been waiting for all day in its entire splendor…

"Happy Birthday!"

Banners sprawled across the massive sunlit room filled with friends and family as they all yelled out. It was his thirteenth birthday. There were so many happy faces he recognized from his past, all smiling at him, trying to get his attention and take a picture of the boy of the hour. Two hundred balloons of every color floated in the magnificence of the great room, as many of the guests toasted him. Thirteen again…

At the center of the room stood Thomas Wayne… The accomplished surgeon, the patriarch of one of the oldest families in Gotham, and the best man he had ever known; his father. He was sipping champagne from a flute, chatting with someone whom he hadn't seen in a full year since his last birthday, John Zatara. Mr. Zatara, also sipping champagne, was dressed in full top hat and tuxedo, prepared to perform wonderful feats of magic for the crowd as he had for Bruce's last birthday.

Zatara shifted, revealing to Bruce his young assistant…

A _girl_… dressed like the magician before her, but long legs were adorned in black fishnet stockings instead of pants. Her long, dark hair spilled from her top hat, almost falling over stunning blue eyes that took in every detail of the room. Even though she couldn't have been older than fourteen, she already had the breasts the older women were envious of.

She was as mysterious as she was stunning. He couldn't take her eyes off her…

"_Bruce_!" His father's booming voice of confidence brought him back to the present. "Come on over and say hello to Mr. Zatara."

Bruce walked over towards his father, incredibly self-conscious with each step, because _she_ was watching him now. Although it was impossible, he tried _hard_ not to stare at this girl of fantasy the entire time he walked towards his father.

He had forgotten the frightening power of teenage hormones.

"Bruce, you remember my old friend Giovanni Zatara?"

"Of course I do. It's great to see you again Mr. Zatara. Will you be performing today?"

"Please, call me _John_. Alas young Master Wayne, I must disappoint you. I will _not_ be performing for you… I must step aside for someone even _greater_! Please allow me to introduce my daughter, Zatanna..."

She held out her small hand for him to shake… so soft and warm.

"It's nice to meet you, Bruce. Thanks for inviting my father and I, and for letting us perform for you... Oh, and Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks for attending. I can't wait to see the show... Your father is amazing!"

"Yes, _he_ is. Hopefully I don't mess it all up. I'm not as good as my father _thinks_ I am."

"You'll be great."

Her smile almost made him fall in love again. It would be too easy to stay here - watching his father giving a sly wink to Mr. Zatara with that conspirator smile fathers have.

His teenage years could be an entirely new beginning… not the Hell they _had_ been… immersed in the science of revenge, shunning all friendship, twisting the hatred in his soul each night to keep it hard …

This life would be better. A normal life. But he would be a man with a girl. Yet if he were to stay, he knew the man would disappear so that only the boy remained, the old concerns forgotten, the old memories given up…

And if the memories disappeared, then that meant…

* * *

Bruce Wayne knew this next place _well_.

It was sacred to him.

It was the place where he had first met his wife as she appeared on the Earth and had said his final farewell to Richard only a day ago. And he knew he was _himself_ again. The bumps, bruises, the pains, and the tightness in his gut let him know that. Standing in the courtyard between the two Gotham Towers, Bruce wondered if there had ever been a funeral here at all…

He looked to the sacrosanct spot where Raven had first appeared over a year ago, on a night just like this, and he then saw the fallen woman… He _heard_ her…. The only way he could describe _that_ sound was primal whimpering. Horrible, rasping sobs that racked her entire broken frame as she lay face-down in the dirt, her red hair splayed across the night-shaded grass…

Barbara Gordon.

"_Barbara_?"

Bruce carefully approached her. In his heart, he knew something _terrible_ had happened to Barbara. No one sounded like that outside of Arkham. She still wore the same clothes she had before, her shoes still missing. As he neared, a small blue eye peered out from beneath her hair, a sliver of vision, but it was _enough_… she saw him and he saw a sanity ruptured by madness.

"_Noooo…. No more… I can't…._ "

"Barbara, it's me Bruce. I'm here."

"_NO! You're just trying to trick me! No more_!"

"Barbara, I'm not here to trick you. I thought Trigon put you here to trick _me_."

The wail she screamed broke his heart. She screamed until her vocal cords clacked, until a guttural hiss was all she could issue. Even then, it took everything he had to embrace her, to hold onto her, against all her exhausted, wiry might that resisted. Slowly, she calmed down, her unsteady breathing labored beneath his arms…

"_Bruce_?..."

"It's really me, Barbara."

"Don't let me go… _please_." She was swaying back and forth, rocking in his arms, her breath still coming in gasped patches.

"I won't."

He held her for moments until the glimmer of insane hope appeared in her eyes.

"Did we beat _him_? Is it _over_?!"

"No. He's testing me... This is the final test. We _will_ beat him, Barbara."

"No… no, we won't." Barbara tumbled into depression once more. "He showed it to me, Bruce… He showed me the _future_. We don't win…"

"That's _his_ future. We make our own."

"No, there's only one Fate. He showed me the threads of Fate, Bruce. In one minute after we get back, a green alien with a ring comes and tries to stop him. In two minutes, that alien is dead. Clark dies in three minutes. Trigon then tortures you in front of Raven and burns away her humanity, laughing as you die. And you were the lucky one."

"Barbara, what happened?..."

"_Happens_, Bruce… We die. That's _all_ I'm telling you…"

Bruce took her firmly in his arms once more… as neither of them realized they had been joined by a malicious visitor.

"_Oh Barbara_… you must tell him the _whole_ narrative if he's to make a proper choice."

Trigon stood before them, reduced now to eight feet tall but with an evil that dwarfed the massive towers on either side of him. Barbara began to sob again, to hide her face into Bruce's shoulder as if attempting to crawl inside him, her sanity retreating.

"What did you do to _her_, Trigon?!"

"As she said, Mr. Wayne… I simply showed her the future. Clark will die. I will take my daughter whichever path you choose. And then you will die..._terribly_. And young Miss Gordon, well, she is the _luckiest_ of you all. Let me explain the honor I bestow upon her…

In moments, I will claim her as my own… to replace the humanity I had to burn out of my daughter because of _you, _Bruce Wayne. Miss Gordon will curse your name a thousand times for the price you make her pay. It's so hard to contain myself…

Try to comprehend… Within me, I carry the searing lust of a trillion darkened souls… I can _never_ be satiated. Barbara shall be the object of my lust, suffering like no woman has ever suffered from the moment of forced conception until the moment before our son is born nine months later.

And when _he_ is born, I will allow him to feed on his mother's soul. Her debt paid. And if the boy pleases me, I will grant him life enough to inherit the new Universe I shall create, to be an omnipotent _God_!... Why do you cry again, woman? Your son may rule a Universe! Are you not pleased?"

"That will _never_ happen, Trigon." Bruce could never allow _that_ to happen to Barbara. That beast had put her through Hell.

"But you alone _may_ stop me, Bruce Wayne. This is my final offer… before _all_ that I have told you will come to pass. I will relinquish a son for a daughter. It is your choice. Choose wisely."

Far above from the night sky, an extensive red cord unfurled, no thicker than his little finger, suspended from somewhere unseen in the dark skies above to come to rest just above the ground before him. Staring directly upwards, Bruce couldn't even see where the monstrous cord began, but he _knew_ it stretched into space…

"I offer you an existence _without_ Trigon. The red cord before you is my thread of Fate in this reality. Simply pull it, let it tumble, and I will have never existed here. I will disappear from your world, from your Universe, _completely_.

Tragic Drax will have died in the Infinity Pit, never to become the destroyer of lives you now see before you. Just _think_ Wayne… I've taken over a trillion lives… caused untold suffering and tragedy throughout the Universe. Now saved by _you_. You will save a thousand worlds.

And you will still have your son. There will be no funeral here… For Krypton was never destroyed. Clark never journeyed to your world and Luthor never planted the trap that took young Richard's innocent life. He's stationed in Fort Hood right now… _if_ you wanted to go see him.

And your engine of destruction… it's still below your mansion, _unused_. It hasn't killed anyone. Lucius Fox died in Switzerland. Ra's al Ghul is alive but perhaps with the help of Miss Gordon, you can overcome your hunger for revenge and dismantle the bits of the engine before the madman discovers it. Not a perfect world, but you can still be the hero here.

And she loves you, Bruce Wayne. Even I could not bring her to _truly_ despise you… One of my few disappointments, I hate to admit. Even as she bears my full wrath_…_ she still will hold that love for you.

Did you know she _waited_ for you?

During that whole year that you told her you were married, she waited… She believed it was a _test_. To see if she would fall for another man. To see if she was truly worthy of you. After all, no one had even _seen_ your mysterious wife.

And when she first saw Raven, she believed you were trying to pull a cruel joke on her, that you had convinced some foreign exchange student to _pretend_ to be your wife just to see how upset she would be. That you would make it up to her and laugh at it over dinner, and then suddenly present her with a ring, to let her know that _she_ was the only one and that she had _passed_ the test. That you loved her all this time.

How her heart broke when she learned the truth… And yet, she _still_ loves you.

Pull the cord, Bruce… Spare Barbara Gordon from the terrible fate that awaits her in the other world. Destroy me… before I destroy you all."

Bruce felt the pull on his lapel as Barbara's fingers tightened…

"_Please_ Bruce… Whatever I can give you, I will."

"Barbara… we have to go back. Fates can be changed. I alone could have changed it three times."

"Then change it. Pull the cord, Bruce. Kill him. End him. A trillion lives saved… including _ours_."

"I can't, Barbara." Bruce wondered if he were fated to break Barbara Gordon's heart in _every_ reality…

"Bruce, you _can_! This will become our new home. Just pull the cord…"

"If I pull that cord, Trigon will have never existed… But that also means Raven will have never existed. Without Trigon, there is no Raven..."

_NNOOOOOOO!_

Reality shattered around them… _spent_.

His choice had been made.


	111. Chapter 111

**Author's Note**: If you're comfortable with the events of last chapter, feel free to skip ahead to Chapter 111. For those scratching their heads, or deeply concerned for the welfare of Barbara Gordon, take heart and read on…

The previous chapter "_For the Man Who Had Everything_" presents the last two temptations of Bruce Wayne by Trigon as a part of "_The Deal_". It's important to realize that Trigon was the corrupt mastermind behind all these presented realities to tempt Bruce. The first scenario was actually with Talia al Ghul in the server room where Bruce could have inherited a dead world to rebuild in his own image with a devoted Talia, but instead chose to be with Raven and face Trigon.

The second scenario was Bruce as a child where his parents did _not_ die in the terrorist attack on September 11, 2001. However, when Bruce was about to compare his mother's gentle kiss to Raven's, Trigon "fast-forwarded" the tape to Bruce's thirteenth birthday party. Then to sweeten the deal, the world's worst father-in-law threw in a young Zatanna Zatara to distract Bruce from thoughts of his wife. When Bruce recognized that if he were to stay in that reality, he would lose his memories of Raven, he chooses not to remain and return to her.

The third scenario is truly the most frightening. Bruce is offered a reality _without_ Trigon. To help secure the deal, Trigon has thrown a terrified Barbara Gordon at his feet, having shown her a future of what would happen if Bruce were _not_ to accept his final offer. In this timeline, Clark dies, Bruce is killed, Raven is reduced to just her demon half, and Barbara is continually raped by Trigon until she bears him a son at which point she will finally be allowed to die. Very traumatic for anyone.

Trigon's character is horrifically evil. He is DC's equivalent of the Devil. The images he has subjected Barbara to are among the worst fates imaginable for _anyone_, but especially a woman. But it's important to realize the horrors he has shown her did not happen.

Nor will they.

While the Great Tormentor is still within the bounds of "The Deal", he may craft differing scenarios to sway Bruce's decision, and that is what he has done with Barbara… presented her with a fate _so horrible_ that she would beg Bruce to choose a world where it could never happen. That's not to say Trigon wouldn't do something like that, but you're going to find out next chapter he has a _limitation_ and could not attack Barbara like that.

Bruce however realizes that a Universe without Trigon is a Universe without Raven - and also (being a very clever guy), that there would be a heavy price to pay for Trigon's '_generosity'_… more on that in the chapter.

It's OK. Barbara will survive.

With Raven's help, she will recover from this terrible attack upon her psyche and come out swinging. She's a fighter, she's a lover, she's smart, and she's resourceful. But her true strength is her indomitable strength-of-will and her ability to think on the fly - as you will learn in following chapters…

* * *

**CXI  
Sisters-In-Arms**

As her husband and evil father suddenly disappeared into the webs of Fate, Raven went immediately to a prone Barbara Gordon to cradle the dispossessed woman's body in her arms. Barbara's soul had been dislodged by Trigon himself, of that she was certain. But what she discovered when she held her was even _worse_…

The taint of Trigon's evil _flooded_ Barbara's emotions - crashing fear, despair, and pain against the shores of her battered consciousness… Raven understood what had happened _then_. She had stipulated that she herself could not be used as leverage in Bruce's decision, that his wife could not be used to influence his choice that would decide her future. To her regret, she had mentioned _nothing_ about Barbara Gordon…

"Barbara, come back to me… Get _him_ out of there."

She attempted to pull out the immense fear from the shaking woman who had been caught in the crossfire of their deadly game. Raven knew that Barbara's life was in immediate danger - on the verge of shock. Every muscle on her coiled frame _tightened_ in profound terror. Her heart wouldn't take much more. Even though Trigon had never actually touched her, his was a power so dark it could corrupt lives with a mere thought and make them beg for the release of death. What had he _done_ to her?!

Raven extended _all_ of her power to bring Barbara back to this reality. She was so, so far away from her. She pulled with everything she had, to bring her tortured friend back. The soul could only leave the body for so long…

Finally, pale, frightened blue eyes opened as nervous energy coursed thorough Barbara's reclaimed body…

"Shhh... Barbara, you're back with me. You're here. It's over. It only happened in your mind…"

"No. He _showed_ me!… He showed me the future! Bruce will let it happen…"

"No… he won't. Bruce has the power to change Fate. And you have the power to change your own fate. That's why you're drawn to one another."

"Raven … It was _so_ real. He… did _horrible_ things to me… He... _broke_ me." Tears formed around Barbara's eyes, recalling the atrocities the demon had subjected her to.

"He did _not_ break you. He only _tried_. You returned, you're alive..."

"Raven, if you die in these next few minutes… You have to take me with you. Promise me! Those things he showed me… I _can't_…."

Raven took her hands in her own. "I promise, Barbara. Our souls will escape."

"I wanted Bruce to live a life _without_ you, _without_ Trigon. He would have given us a world where he never became Trigon… My God, he's killed a trillion people…. They would all be returned. None of this would have happened… Bruce just had to pull the red cord of fate from that world and it was done…"

"But it would still happen for _you_. The Barbara Gordon of _that_ world would have been spared from Trigon's wrath, but you are not her. There are 52 main branches of the Great Tree - each a separated Universe. We exist as different versions of ourselves within these branches - different choices produce different outcomes, but the structure remains the same. Had Bruce chosen to pull that thread, you would not have been spared, Barbara…"

"But Trigon said… He lied."

"The Barbara Gordon of _that_ world would be spared. But you, as you are now Barbara, would be returned here. The deal was only for Bruce and Bruce alone…"

"Oh my God… Raven… I… _betrayed_ you…" Barbara took Raven into her exhausted arms as the tears began to fall once more. She had almost destroyed her best friend's wife for _lies_.

"He is the God of Corruption, Barbara. And you… are my friend."

Raven embraced her, with all the peace and love that she could muster pouring from her into Barbara's fragile soul. Her friend had been through a _terrible_ ordeal – the only raw pain that Raven had ever felt comparable to this was when one thousand Azarathian souls had converged on her in blind terror, leaving her comatose for days.

"Raven… I wanted him to pull that cord so _badly_."

"Then let us thank the Gods that he did _not_… That cord was to be _my_ thread. Had Bruce chosen to remain in that world, there would have been two Trigons in this one; father _and_ daughter. His choice would have doomed our Universe to die by my own hands… That was the deal."

"Oh God… I didn't know…"

"You could not. I am not without faults. It was I who struck the bargain."

"What was the deal, Raven? Will Trigon leave us?..."

"No… the stakes were much smaller. My father cleansed this world of Bruce's engine of destruction before it destroyed all breathing life on this planet. It was the only chance left to us before the moment of the dawn.

In exchange, Trigon was given three chances to make my husband abandon me, to manipulate fate where Bruce would choose another life without me. Had he chosen either of the three, I was to inherit my father's destiny."

"That's… _horrible_."

"Yes…But I could not live to see him destroyed by regret. I _couldn't,_ Barbara…"

The tears began to fall in Raven's eyes as well as she remembered how close Bruce had come to being a man destroyed by guilt. As bad as the future Trigon had employed against Barbara, there had been another vision just as desolate that had driven Raven to strike the bargain she had…

In her mind, she had envisioned walking the lifeless world with Bruce by her side _after_ the engine had deployed… each and every dead body a reminder of his guilt, driving him to a madness she could never heal… until she was left alone in the Universe in regret… unable to deny her violent destiny any longer…

"Raven… if I had _half_ the courage you have…. I would have never… It's been such a _crazy_ day… Richard's funeral, getting teleported, knocking out Lex Luthor, crash landing in Elysium, meeting Clark's dad and formulating a plan that would seal Ra's al Ghul… and Jor-El's fate."

"You have as much courage as I have ever had… _more_. This was never your fight, and yet you have allied with us from because of your love…"

"I _kissed_ him!" Where did _that_ come from?! She really hadn't meant to let that slip… ever. It was as though fear had left her…

"Kissed _who_?..."

"_Bruce_… I had to see if there was anything between us…. It was all spur of the moment… it's just that I had been carrying a torch for so long… and it was the end of the world… and… I'm really sorry, Raven."

"What happened _after_ you kissed him?"

"…I knew that his heart belongs with you. It was like he was kissing a sister. He… let me down easy."

"Then I shall call you sister, Barbara Gordon. There shall only be love and devotion between us." She embraced this brave woman once more, thankful for her honesty.

"…Thank you, Raven. You're the best sister I could ever ask for."

"Thank you, sister. And I will be by your side, always…"

"Raven… shouldn't Bruce and Trigon be back by now?" Barbara turned to look at where Trigon had stood only moments before.

"Yes… They should."

"Raven… Oh God…Is that _Clark_?! It's like the vision he showed me…" It was the first time she had turned around, the color drained from her cheeks once more.

"It is Barbara. He's still alive… but hurt very badly."

"Can you help him?!"

"I can try, but the miracle he needs will come from another."

"He _can't_ die, Barbara…. If there's anything I can do to save him…"

"Keep hope alive in your heart, and keep your formidable mind sharp. I need your wits and courage more than ever. You're the only thing keeping me from falling into darkest despair right now… I need you to anchor me, sister."

"You… _saved_ me… didn't you? You took my fears and terror into yourself…"

"I did. They were… _substantial_."

"Raven, I promise you… I'll find a way to _beat_ that bastard… I won't let him destroy this world... or _you_."

"Then hold my hand while I see what we can do for Clark… sister."

* * *

**Next Chapter: Bruce Wayne vs. Trigon!**


	112. Chapter 112

**CXII  
Bruce Wayne vs. Trigon**

The reality which had been nighttime in Gotham city _shattered_ around Bruce, broken shards of Wayne Towers and the Gotham skyline falling into eternity - leaving him alone in emptiness. Barbara and Trigon had disappeared as well so that he stood in an infinity of darkness. This place was the very embodiment of _nothing_. He shouted to the darkness…

"If we're finished… I would like to go back to Raven now."

Bruce closed his mind. He actually _wanted_ to talk with Trigon first, but he didn't want the demon to realize it. It was starting to come together…

In a flash of red smoke, Trigon appeared before him once more, now only a head taller than Bruce, standing across from him in the darkness, struggling to maintain the immortal fury inside him… The anger on the demon's countenance was painfully obvious, a glare of hatred leveled at Bruce,

"This is all I have left to offer you, mortal. You must be content with _nothing_! So here it is, look around you. This is obviously all you ever wanted from me… Do you believe this to be a _game_, Bruce Wayne?! You have just doomed the lives of one trillion souls… That was _no_ illusion. That was one branch of the 52 realities, a reality _without_ the Great Trigon… And yet you toss aside my gift I have _willingly_ given, as though it were mere chaff."

"And what would happen to that red thread of Fate _after_ I pulled it, Trigon?"

"It - _and I_ - would disappear from that existence. On that, you have my word, Bruce Wayne."

"But _where_ would it go?"

"It would go _elsewhere_."

"To become the thread of Fate for Raven's destiny in my world."

"Her threads of Fate are irrevocably intertwined with my own in _all_ destinies. Do you think your noble sacrifice will _save_ her _or_ your world from my power?! Do you believe Raven will not embrace her _true_ inheritance? That hope is baseless…

I offered you your _only_ chance for survival, a world of your own in exchange for something you can _never_ possess… how incredibly naïve you are, mortal. In your extreme insolence, you have chosen a woman you can _never_ own, Bruce Wayne... Raven is _mine_!"

"I don't own her, Trigon. Raven _chose_ me. And I chose _her_. Fate may have brought us together but we _chose_ to remain with each other, to love…"

"Such pathetic, ignorant devotion… Is this what they call _love_?..." The word left a bad taste in Trigon's mouth. "Shall I twist your eternal soul into a _ring_ then? Is _this_ the symbol of love? Compress all that you are into a little band of living flesh so my daughter can wear you around her little finger for eternity? For surely, that _is_ your proper place in her Universe…"

From behind him, Bruce felt the familiar grip of the white-gloved hand rest upon his shoulder. He really _should_ have been surprised to find the Phantom Stranger appear in this bleak dimension, but strangely, he wasn't…

"This man has passed your trials, demon. Release him!" The Stranger spoke with righteous anger and authority.

"…_Make me_."

Trigon grinned devilishly at the Stranger, as though goading the mysterious figure to take action against him, to force his hand.

"_Don't_ do it, Stranger." Bruce held his arm out to prevent the Stranger from advancing into battle. "He has no power over us unless we attack him first."

"No power over _you_?!" The roar was deafening. "I am _Trigon_, mortal! I have destroyed a thousand worlds, leaving only barren rock remaining in my dark wake…"

"How many worlds have you destroyed that _didn't_ attack you first?" Bruce had stood firm against Trigon's shouts of indignation.

"Never doubt the incomprehensible might of Trigon, fools!"

"I don't… You are divine retribution on a scale I never dreamed imaginable. But you only _react_… You had your demons destroy Azarath without lifting a finger because it was the one place which would _never_ attack you. You have destroyed the nations of Earth which attacked you, but _only_ those nations. Krypton attacked you and paid the ultimate price… You possessed Talia when she was making her play for me, didn't you?"

"Of course. She needed _very_ little coaxing however. I reveled in the magnificent lust I found there, Bruce Wayne. She could have given you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, she still may if you desire…"

"I don't. When Barbara went to remove Talia's finger from her mouth, you configured that as an affront upon you. That's why you were able to twist Barbara's soul and mind like that… to show her _that_ future… and I promise that you will pay _dearly_ for what you did to her, demon."

"Shall I? Did I not offer you the chance to _save_ her, Bruce Wayne? To save an entire reality and the innocence of Barbara Gordon?"

"Only at the cost of another… And that other reality happens to be my home where my wife waits for me."

"Death waits for you, mortal."

"Then let it wait… When you were in my soul, the bat-demon of revenge that possesses me – the one that _drove_ me to create the engine of destruction to avenge my parents' murder - acknowledged you as its _master_… I know _what_ you are, Trigon."

"What I am you could _never_ comprehend, even in a lifetime of devotion and study."

"You are the God of Revenge."

"It is true, I seek revenge."

"But _why_?... Why exact vengeance upon unknown worlds which have done _nothing_ more than defend themselves from a perceived threat? That's the final piece of the puzzle…"

"A puzzle beyond your recognition, insignificant wretch... Do you _truly_ believe I need to even lift a single finger to destroy your world? You're so close to destroying each other already… a simple nudge here and there and _poof_! I will mirthfully witness your idiotic nations tear themselves apart."

"_E Pluribus Unum_, Trigon. Humanity will resist you, your evil will drive us to work _together_ as no other force in our history ever has… You've lost, demon."

"You overestimate the nobility and resolve of the human soul, Wayne. Neither you _nor_ your precious mankind will ever prevent me from obtaining my daughter and destroying your world."

"That's why you _need_ her, isn't it Trigon?... She doesn't have the limitation that you do. If she were to follow your crimson path of destiny, she could destroy _any_ world - whether they attacked her or not, couldn't she? You would use Raven as a tool of destruction just to overcome your one single restriction - so that _no_ life in the Universe would be spared..."

"_Demon_!" The Phantom Stranger had listened incredulously in silence, but his anger now prevailed. "All the powers of Order will stand against your mad design, Trigon!"

"Let them… I shall rewrite the powers of Order to my _own_ accord, Stranger. When I have destroyed this Universe, I will simply create another."

"We must leave this place, Bruce Wayne! There are powers that must be alerted to prevent this tragedy. The Universe will not let you prevail, Demon!"

"Perhaps… I may even be stopped, Stranger… I may not live to see the End of all that is. But rest assured, there is no power that exists in Creation that can stop my daughter from her allotted destiny!"

The evil laughter of Trigon filled the entire void in despair as he disappeared from view in crimson smoke, leaving only the Phantom Stranger and Bruce Wayne alone in the darkness. Traces of the world he had left behind were slowly fading into view. He was returning.

Bruce placed a firm hand upon the Stranger's shoulder to look him in the eye…

"There's _always_ hope, Phantom Stranger. There _is_ a power that can stop Raven from any prescribed destiny which Trigon holds for her… and that power is Raven _herself_."

"Let us pray you are correct, man of Gotham. But in the meantime, let us tip the scales in her favor."

Bruce nodded as he watched the morning sun cast off the darkness of the void. The scene of destruction in the desert of Kahndaq he had left behind mere moments (and two lifetimes) ago returned. The trials of Trigon were over...

But the final battle had just begun.


	113. Chapter 113

**CXIII  
Blackest Night**

Of the 360 inhabited worlds he patrolled, Abin Sur of the Green Lantern Corps had made very few trips to Earth. The planet had yet to establish a presence in the surrounding galaxy and most interstellar threats seemed to be focused on the more advanced worlds, which kept the red-skinned native of the planet Ungara _away_ from the blue and white planet. Some day he may truly believe that…

His rational mind chided him for believing in superstition - no matter _who_ had been the source. It told him (_yet again_) not to dwell on the desperate lies of the five demon lords imprisoned on the planet Ysmault.

Or of the prophecies the five Terrors of the Cosmos had greedily spouted all those years ago when Abin Sur had been forced to rescue a ship that had crash-landed on the former throne-world of their Empire of Tears... Forbidden Ysmault.

Every sentient, reasonable being _knew_ that Demons twisted facts into lies. It was a pattern that had been repeated throughout history.

But why had the five named _Earth_ in their dread prophecy of Blackest Night?...

As a member of the Green Lantern Corps, the Guardians had finally summoned him near the planet of the prophecy. They had notified him of the destruction of Azarath, a non-violent, spiritually advanced plane of existence that had separated from Earth one thousand years before. Whoever had attacked such a peaceful place must _surely_ be inheritably evil. Demons would even try to twist his sacred oath to use against him…

_In brightest day, in blackest night,  
No evil shall escape my sight_.  
_Let those who worship evil's might,  
Beware my power, Green Lantern's light!_

And even if there were a prophesied blackest night, surely a brightest day would follow…

He was letting the five demon lords warp his thoughts. They had only sought to _intrigue_ him, to make him return to Ysmault for an explanation. To draw him into web of confusion. That had been their plan all along, to instil unfounded uncertainty in him.

Navigating the protective dimension barrier and touching down upon Azarath, it was evident that an atrocity had happened here. But it wasn't anything that he hadn't seen before, no dark revelations of an end to the Corps. Still, it was his sacred duty to bring those who had waged this wholesale slaughter of innocent life to justice.

His subsequent investigations of the devastated land had revealed unspeakable murder against defenceless citizens. The life-forms of this small plane had been completely wiped out from existence in a ruthless, violent manner. No one was spared and - except for the carnage - the murderous offenders had not left much evidence at the scene in regards to motive… or their next move.

Tracking them proved difficult. He was certain it was the work of a _group_ of beings, but they seemed to be able to disappear and reappear at will. Later, when the Guardians of Oa had further alerted Abin Sur to a powerful presence of evil energies that had emerged just inside of the Earth's orbit, he knew they had found his target. Was the Earth next on their path of destruction? But _why_ Earth?...

After recharging his power ring and repeating his oath once more, the Green Lantern of sector 2814 broke through dimensional barriers to emerge into the solar system of Earth… when he witnessed the _impact_ from space. He had heard that humans had developed weapons capable of such devastation, but the bright object that had caused the explosion of incredible magnitude seemed to have come from this system's sun… and _directly_ at the target he tracked.

Without delay, Abin Sur streaked across the blackness of space and into the planet's atmosphere, bathed in the emerald power of his ring. Near the point of the impact, there were massive boulders and rocks that had been hurled into the atmosphere to an _amazing_ height - which he guided calmly back to the safety of the land using his ring. The air was thick with dust which he also managed to clear.

He then saw the demonic-looking _things_ which he felt certain had been responsible for the desecration of Azarath. It appeared that most of them had been vaporized by the recent explosion. Perhaps this blast had been a desperate measure of the Earth-people to defend themselves from these deadly invading hordes?

A quick sweep of the land allowed the Green Lantern to round up the handful of creatures that _had_ survived, sealing them in a large, emerald sphere. These demons would have to answer for their crimes to the Guardians, but first he had questions of his own. When pressed, they gave him precious little information as to their actions, using a primitive language of a series of clicks and whirls, only issuing a single word that even the ring knew no meaning for… _Trigon_.

So be it - all questions would be laid to rest once the Guardians were involved. No secrets would remain from the masters of Oa. Still, he wondered as to the mechanism of their arrival on this world. They were awkward flyers… it would have taken them a lifetime to travel from Azarath to Earth - providing that they could even traverse dimensions.

They seemed such base, unsophisticated creatures. Had an entity simply been using them as tools to spread destruction?...

The power detection ability of his ring suddenly registered off the charts. Something was appearing…

He saw _it_… a massive, demonic being. His first thought was that one of the five Inversions had escaped from Ysmault. But no… the Inversions were physical manifestations of madness and this demon was certainly humanoid.

This one possessed a similar crimson skin tone to his own and a biped. If not for the four eyes and immense size, it could have been mistaken for an obscene Ungarian with the jagged physical attributes of a fierce warrior - not the scholars of his gentle home world.

Every sense and instrument told him that _this_ was the source of power and evil, there could be no more doubt. He broadcast all readings from his ring to the Guardians who resided galaxies away. A plan would have to be formulated. Still… it would take time for reinforcements to arrive… time this world may no longer have.

Abin Sur flew into the demon's eye line, to address this mighty entity.

"I am the Green Lantern Abin Sur. This planet is under my protection. State your name and purpose on this world."

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of three humans below. They were frantically yelling something at him in a strange language… he willed the ring to translate their speech but they had suddenly been encapsulated into a crimson force field, all sound silenced. It was the demon who answered him in his own native tongue of Ungara instead.

"Abin Sur… The Green Lantern of prophecy… welcome to your doom."

"What do you know of this prophecy, demon?! _Answer_!"

"Your ring shall fail you when you need it most… and there was _never_ a time when you needed it more than now…"

That had been the _first_ part of the prophecy on Ysmault… when Abin Sur had made the mistake of asking the demons how he would die. He had never repeated that to anyone! Not even the Guardians… but now, somehow, this demon _knew_!

Unwilling to allow this beast to twist his psyche further, Abin Sur channelled his powerful will through the ring, to stun the great beast into unconsciousness. It was obvious who had orchestrated the attack on Azarath and this monster would be made to answer for his crimes…

The concentrated blast of beams of green light-force had no effect against the colossus - except to provide _amusement_ for the demon. Had his ring finally _betrayed_ him?!...

"I am _Trigon_, mortal. Would you dare to wield a weapon powered by your will against me?! Against the most powerful will in the Universe! Shall I show you _how_ your ring will betray you, Ungarian?"

Again Abin Sur focused his entire will through his ring into a force beam of incredible strength that would have levelled mountains… and again to no effect. Something fluttered inside the emerald champion… something he hadn't truly known for a century or more… _fear_.

The member of the Green Lantern Corps suddenly felt his hand _gravitating_ towards the side of his head… it seemed to be moving independently of its own free will! Abin Sur struggled with all his might to resist its steady progression to his temple… until at last he felt the knuckles of his own fist and the Power Ring pressed directly against the side of his head.

"One may fall but a thousand more will take my place, demon!"

"A million of you could come and it would not matter. The power of will is useless against the course of Destiny, Ungarian. But _resist_… please… force your ring to_ move._ Allow it spare your life. Make your fingers unfurl so that you may remove the cursed ring and renounce the Lanterns…

Or fulfill the prophecy that was foretold, Abin Sur. Sacrifice yourself to the _true_ child of Blackest Night. Reveal to my daughter the power of the prophecy given to her. Prepare to enter Blackest Night…"

An emerald beam - no wider than the width of his finger – shot from the ring that had failed him and directly _through_ Abin Sur's head. As the mortally wounded Green Lantern plummeted to the ground while three mortals below gazed upon in horror, he remembered... There had been _another_ part to the prophecy… where the deeds of the ring's successor would surpass even his own. He prayed to Oa that this was true…

For if it were true, the ring had _not_ failed him... It had relieved him.

He had slipped into blackest night, but a new champion of Oa would arise to bring about brightest day…


	114. Chapter 114

**CXIV  
The Barbara Gordon Gambit, Part Two**

With Barbara's willing help, Raven had managed to ease the Kryptonian's pain, at least as much as she would be able to. The incredible amount of injury Clark had sustained _should_ have vaporized his molecular structure, scattering his atoms throughout the atmosphere around them.

But Clark was _unbelievably_ resilient... even now, he was slowly healing with the dawn's light… although Raven knew it would still be considerable time before he would be whole again, time they may not have…

Her worries suddenly disappeared as familiar emotions filled her external senses once again, making Raven suddenly look up from her patient - as she saw the figure of the one she had been _praying_ for materialize in front of her, driving her heart into wild palpitations…

_Bruce_!

Never would she have dared to believe that she could _ever_ feel this way about someone. For the first twenty-one years of her life, she had been taught to conceal and control her emotions - to _deny_ feelings like these. The scholars had taught her that her _lust_, her _hate_, her _anger_, her _passions_ - _all_ were the tools that her father used to control her. Such impulses were to be consistently denied if the light of her soul were to shine and Azarath was to survive.

After years of study, she had learned to _control_ her feelings, her desires, her urges, but never to exorcise them entirely. To the elders of Azarath, she had failed, her soul had remained tainted. She was the half-demon who could never free herself of the base instincts that all others had so easily divested from their psyche.

For Raven, this kind of love was shown as a temptation, a slope to corruption, into a doorway that hid the dark powers that she struggled to contain.  
And then, on the dawn of her twenty-first birthday, it was a battle the elders had conceded that she would _lose_…

And she had been _banished_.

Sent to the land of her mother… How strange it had been that Bruce had been _waiting_ for her…

On that cold night more than one year past, she had appeared in black smoke onto the barren streets of Gotham. She knew nothing of this new world, only that her mother had been born in this city, a thing Arella would not discuss.

But how _tall_ these massive structures were! And how strange the glow of a million little lights shining against the stars in the sky. Different smells bombarded her, the cold humidity in the night air. And in the distance like a swarm of ants, she began to sense strange emotions from more souls than she ever believed possible!

But one man's emotions were more powerful than _any_ others…

In the wonder of this new world, she saw him, _felt_ him - felt his conflicted emotions as though his tortured soul mirrored her own. From across the courtyard, a war of beliefs raged within him, uncertainty, despair, regret, anger - all reflecting upon his troubled face.

He was larger than the men of her world… muscular, strong, powerful… his dark features were _pleasing_ to behold. He projected an intensity she had never felt in her young life that caused a sudden chemical reaction with her body… bold _new_ feelings exploded within her as she drew a sudden breath to her quickening heart.

He gazed up at her then, carefully _approached_… his own emotions reaching out to her, questioning, yearning – so _similar_ to the ones inside her that coursed with her own nervous energy. In the language of her mother, this man spoke to her…

"Are you the angel sent to guide me?"

"… I am Raven." She had considered herself the _opposite_ of an angel.

"… Have you been here long, Raven?"

"For a moment only… What is your name?"

"I'm sorry. It's Bruce. Bruce Wayne... I didn't mean to startle you. Where did you just come from, Raven?"

"A gentle place beyond the realms of this land. It was my home, but I am no longer… _welcome_ there."

She hadn't meant to weep, to be weak in this world, but the pain of being cast out from the land of her birth so _unexpectedly_, the only home she had ever known, overwhelmed her.

"If you would like, you can stay with me, Raven. For as long as you need. My house is rather… large."

"I.. _cannot_. I carry the taint of darkness in my soul, Bruce Wayne. I am a half-demon, a terrible danger to those who would shelter me."

"Then you are _my_ fallen angel, Raven. I had prayed for a miracle… a sign to show me the path I must take… I too carry a darkness within me. Perhaps Fate has put us together to guide one another… "

"Yes, I believe it has. I would like to… _stay_ with you, Bruce Wayne."

And that was how they had met. Two lost souls on a cold night in Gotham coupled by Fate. But she had always doubted her worthiness to be loved. He had taken her in, sheltered her, provided all that he had, and he had been the first man to ever call her _beautiful_…

Even after their marriage, she had provided herself countless, ridiculous reasons why this man could _never_ truly love her. For surely she was unworthy of such love. Perhaps it was only _compassion_ he felt, perhaps he held a misplaced belief she was an angel sent to save his soul, that he loved the idea but not the woman, or perhaps he had been the puppet of her father sent to break her heart, an elaborate trap…

Those insecurities were now crushed by an ocean of love, destroyed forver.  
That he appeared before her now answered _all_ questions, _all_ doubts…

She had willingly placed her eternal soul into her husband's hands to purchase _whatever_ life he desired. And now, he had given it back to her to buy the one thing he had _already_ possessed.

Raven.

Her omnipotent father had offered Bruce Wayne _anything_ his heart could ever wish. And he had returned to _her_! Her beautiful husband had withstood the schemes and temptations of her father, declined the pleasures of a thousand worlds… and returned to _her_!

She almost knocked him over.

Bruce held his wife as she hit him with a flying embrace, showering him with a thousand kisses, weeping tears of joy onto his shoulder and placing her hands all over his body - all in the span of four seconds.

"I missed you _too_."

"I love you, I love you, I love you… I am yours until the end of time, my love."

"And I am yours even longer, Raven… The only world I ever wanted is the one I have with you." She kissed him so that he would _never_ forget that.

"…I've found his _weakness_."

"Who, my love?"

"Your father… He's the God of Revenge. He can't harm you unless you attempt to harm him first."

It was Barbara who broke in…

"But what about what he was able to do to _me_, Bruce... I never touched him."

"You did, Barbara. Trigon had possessed Talia in the server room. When you pushed her finger from your mouth, it opened the possibility of retribution. I'm not sure about the exact rules, but basically he can't attack unless attacked."

"Damn… That _sort_ of makes sense... But why was he able to destroy entire nations when only a few people actually carried out the assault?"

"Because those people were acting on behalf of their nation."

"… Then _Clark_?!"

"Acted on his own accord. No one ever told him to attack Trigon. You can't beat this guy by conventional means. He's more of a concept…"

"I AM _BEYOND_ ANY CONCEPT YOU COULD _EVER_ IMAGINE, MORTAL!"

Trigon the Terrible had returned to Earth.  
His harsh words echoed all around them as the three looked up at his full, gigantic height - towering far above them once again. The demon continued…

"Shall I show you the _ease_ at which I will destroy the Guardians of your Galaxy now? How one weak champion shall doom the entire Green Lantern Corps? _Despair_ as I douse the flames of emerald hope, children. But watch _closely_ my daughter, it is a brighter shade of your destiny…"

They watched as a figure - enclosed in a green glow - flew in front of Trigon's four eyes. From what Bruce could see, this '_Green Lantern_' was an alien, very similar to a human in shape, but red and hairless. The words the Green Lantern spoke with Trigon were in a language Bruce did not understand, but he had to get the message across. Frantically, he began waving his arms at the doomed hero…

_"__Do Not Attack Him!"_

Raven and Barbara joined in - until they were suddenly encased once more in a crimson orb - through which no sound could penetrate.

"Raven, can you teleport to him? He has to be warned!"

The familiar black smoke appeared, making Bruce and Barbara cough within the confines of the sphere. But Raven still remained…

"You can't teleport out of here?!"

"I did, my love. He put me back inside. He can teleport me at will."

They watched the struggle between the Green Lantern and Trigon in silent horror as the alien seemed _forced_ to take his own life, struggling with all his might against Trigon's will into a foregone conclusion of tragedy.

Without a sound, they watched the red-skinned Green Lantern fall from the sky, landing with a terrible imagined thud only five feet from them. The crimson sphere then disappeared, leaving the three horrified observers in stunned silence.

"Behold my daughter, the futility of resistance. It is by my will _alone_ that this cursed Universe shall end. Embrace that lesson well. And as for you Bruce Wayne… shall I show you the futility of _your_ resistance? The flaws of your clever revelations?"

"Trigon… _why_?! Why would you destroy the Universe?!"

"Because I have seen the future, mortal. Let me show you how it ends…"

Trigon reached down to pick up the horribly beaten body of Clark into his enormous hand - causing the muscles surrounding Bruce's midsection to suddenly clench, forcing all air from his lungs in a nascent terror. Oh dear God, _no_… He wouldn't, he _couldn't_!

Scooping up the Kryptonian as though he were a child's toy, Trigon raised Clark one hundred and twenty feet into the air, continuing the lecture of iniquity…

"This… _was_ the greatest hope of your world. This man from another world that may have been your greatest champion. You must learn that the lie of HOPE is a _terrible_ thing Bruce Wayne… a poison spread by dreams, fraying the threads of predestined Fate. It is not for mortals to _hope_ for a better future… Simply, we must deal with what is… and what _isn't_…"

Bruce felt the bile rise in his throat as the demon _squeezed_… bearing the full might of a God against the defenceless Kryptonian. He saw Clark's blood begin to trickle, then spill from the base of the monstrous, crimson fist high above him down to the ground below as it pooled on an invisible floor.

From the corner of his eye, he had witnessed Barbara fall to the ground. Raven was screaming for her father to stop. It was the sickening _crack_ that sounded from the inside of Trigon's fist followed by the gleeful smile on Trigon's lips that made Bruce do it. Without a second thought, the acting President willingly gave up the one single advantage he had over Trigon…

He had not attacked the God of Revenge.

_Until now._

Six hundred miles above the Earth, the weapon that had been the crowning glory of Fritz Hollmann's brilliant career, the LexCorp Tachyon Cannon Number One received the signal only a quarter-of-a-second after Bruce had depressed the button on his cufflink. Bruce sincerely hoped Fritz was watching to see his creation fire.

Particles accelerated faster than light erupted from the massive cannon in space, following the path the doomed Kryptonian had flown around the sun, but _much_ faster than ever Clark could fly, outpacing even the laws of quantum mechanics. The space-time continuum fractured beneath a speed no other mortal had ever harnessed, smashing energy forwards through space yet _backwards_ through time…

* * *

And then, it was 3.7 seconds ago...

"…Simply, we must deal with what is… and what _isn't_…"

A blinding light struck Trigon's eyes, immersing the scenery in pure white light. Reality shifted as close to four seconds of time was rewritten, the thread of Fate unraveled to be weaved again. The sound of the beam through the atmosphere and the painful roar Trigon bellowed _shook_ the very land of this alternate reality Bruce had created. He had wounded his father-in-law _severely_.

The demon had seen Clark's attack coming. His damned all-seeing eyes had watched the Kryptonian fly across the solar system and the monster had patiently _waited_. But even Trigon couldn't see an impromptu attack that occurred 3.7 seconds into the past.

Bruce desperately gazed to see if Clark were still alive… in his anguish, the demon had dropped the battered champion, letting him tumble to the invisible floor. He hoped that a fall like that _shouldn't_ hurt Clark and he _should_ still be alive. But Clark's welfare would have to wait…

Slowly… his eyes turned to Trigon to witness the devastation that the Tachyon Cannon had wrought upon the most evil father-in-law.

There was a blackened hole where the demon's upper left eye _had been_. Red Omega energy now spilled freely from the dark socket, crackling into the air. With the cannon strike, pain, anger and wrath had originally buffeted Bruce like a tidal wave of projected emotion from Trigon, but _now_… only the tension of a death sentence hung in the still air. The God of Revenge glared at Bruce with hatred in its three remaining yellow eyes…

"You shall suffer like no other mortal has ever suffered before... the eternal plaything of the five dread Lords of Ysmault, a gift of flesh and soul to my benefactors. You will be broken in ways that madness will come only as a welcome reprieve. And for all of this, for the Eternity of grief you will suffer, I will allow you to gaze upon the precious thing you have achieved… you have allowed me to kill the last son of Krypton _twice_…"

As Trigon grinned and reached down once more to retrieve the adopted Champion of Earth into his deadly clutches, Bruce knew his gamble had _failed_. His last desperate attempt at redemption had not been enough… the single, greatest weapon humanity had ever constructed,could not stop the terror of Trigon…

But in his final moment of deepest despair, Bruce Wayne bore witness to a _miracle_. Thousands of green lightning bolts twisted and crackled around one another in a chaotic conduit of arcane power from behind him. Emerald energy exploded like a cataclysm into the heart of the demon. Power continued to pour into and electrified Trigon, changing his skin from crimson to viridian, bones shadowed against glowing flesh, green energy sparking from all points, _disintegrating_ the demon into millions of tiny sparks… until he was _gone_...

Was Trigon truly _dead_?...

Had they really _won_?...

Had the first alien only been the first to arrive of the _entire_ Green Lantern Corps? Had a thousand more Green Lanterns only now just arrived from distant galaxies to stop the greatest threat the Universe had ever known? If Bruce were to turn around, would he see alien races from other planets he had never dreamed of, standing triumphantly in victory, their power rings blazing in glory?

For all the shocks and surprises that had assailed him over the past week, the one that appeared behind him now was the greatest of them all…

Her scarlet hair charged with emerald power – her entire, tightly uniformed body bathed in the pure light of an iron will, standing tall and defiant… was Barbara Gordon.

Her pale blue eyes blazed with cold fire, unflinching, fixed where Trigon had stood. The origin of the emerald wrath of destruction was attached to her right hand - still pointed at where the demon had been - the Power Ring of a Green Lantern.

**"****You will ****_NOT _****harm him!"**

* * *

**Author's Note:** Oh, it's _on_…


	115. Chapter 115

**CXV  
Barbara Gordon: Green Lantern**

Since the time that Trigon had dragged her through her own personal Hell, Barbara Gordon had never felt so damned helpless – filled with a suffocating dread that she had made taking another breath difficult. It had all seemed _so_ real, a nightmare scenario where death was preferable to life…

But it had all been a lie.

Raven (_her new sister_) had allowed Barbara to cope with the pain and the trauma from Trigon's mental assault, taking her anguish until she felt like she _may_ be able live again. She began to understand Raven's true power and her ability to endure extreme suffering if she could bear what Barbara had felt. She had once thought of this quiet woman as a girl, but began to understand her complex emotional abilities more.

Slowly, the scarlet-haired dynamo was returning to the brash, confident Barbara Gordon that had driven Bruce Wayne across the darkened streets of Shiruta on a motorbike. She has been pulled from the brink of the abyss; because her sister had volunteered to stand in her place.

When Raven had asked her help to alleviate Clark's pain, Barbara did not hesitate to give Raven everything she required.

Clasping Raven's hand in her left and Clark's bloodied hand in her right, the two sisters sat to form a circle with the beaten man. As his immense pain began to flow through them, Barbara willingly took _any_ hurt she could, not allowing Raven to bear Clark's burden as she had just borne Barbara's, so that her own mental anguish was now being replaced with Clark's pure physical agony.

Barbara's body was _racked_ in spasms, sweat poured from her brow as she screamed cries and curses across the desert plains. She had never given birth, but it could not be _this_ bad. The pain still crashed against her nerves in waves that threatened to drown her as she struggled against unconsciousness…

But it was for _Clark_. Her hands would not break the circle.

As the pain left the fallen hero, she let her true feelings flow back into him, the love that had grown, the friendship she had discovered, the hopes and dreams of his father… Clark's pain was replaced by hope, and by her love.

Dear God, she needed him to _live_!

As the onslaught of Clark's physical anguish drove Barbara to her breaking point of sanity, a _different_ pain now flowed from the fallen Kryptonian and into Barbara Gordon's restless heart. It was a pain she knew _far_ too well… the bleak despair of heartbreak. He had loved with all his soul, to have that love snatched from him forever… his secret heart now wandered _lost_ in a wasteland where once love had grown bright.

"_I will be there for you_."

It was her own heart that whispered those words to Clark, her promise to him. He need only to come back to the living and she would replace the love he had lost a thousand fold. If only he would come back to her… _Please Clark_….

"You have given so much." Raven's voice broke the communion. Barbara snapped back to the present.

"…Will he survive, Raven?"

"He has begun to recover… I believe he _wants_ to live, now. We have done all that we can. He needs time…"

Then Bruce had returned. Raven's feelings of joy, love, and unadulterated pleasure pushed through Barbara like endorphins, echoes of what she had given to Clark. It was one of the few times she had _felt_ the empath lose absolute control of her emotions so that those around her experienced what she felt.

Barbara learned that Bruce had discovered a weakness in their enemy. The gears in her mind spun wildly on how to exploit it, how to defeat Trigon in one _single_ attack so there would be no chance at retaliation. They should have taken Clark and regrouped somewhere else, far away… _but_ the demon returned once more.

She had hated very few things in her life, but Raven's father was certainly on top of that list. But before Trigon could torture them further, a red alien, bathed in a green glow, had faced off against the giant demon.

But like a cat playing with a mouse, Trigon had made the alien take his own life, crushing any hope for victory Barbara may have harboured. The alien's corpse had crashed only feet in front of her, abruptly landing on the force field suspending them… yet _another_ tragedy at the hands of Trigon the Terrible.

When the demon lectured Bruce and picked Clark's unconscious body up from the invisible floor, Barbara Gordon went _numb_. She knew there was no mercy in the demon; and she also knew that Clark had outlived his usefulness to Trigon. She knew, but refused to believe, what would come next…

Every moral fibre of her being screamed at her to save Clark… To not let the pain she had suffered, the love she had shared, the promise that her heart had made to him… be broken. Her legs gave out as she stumbled forwards, the blackness of despair creeping into her perception as she stumbled to the floor… _DON'T GIVE UP, GIRL!_

As much as her fighting spirit kept her strong, she wasn't sure what to do next. If only she had a weapon. She would fight for him, strike at the demon, with the last beat of her heart…

And then, like a shining beacon of emerald hope on the alien's dead finger, she saw it…

_The Ring._

Reverently, she slipped the Power Ring from the alien's dead finger, while a strange feeling of power suddenly coursed through her. She released her hold as the ring _rose_ from her finger-and-thumb grasp, floating magically in the air, to remain suspended just above her ring finger. A strange voice (which she knew to be the ring's) sounded in her mind…

_'__Barbara Gordon of Earth.  
You have the ability to overcome great fear.  
Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps.'_

The ring then slipped _itself_ onto her right ring finger. She had been chosen! Her clothes from the funeral (which had honestly seen better days) were suddenly replaced by the style of the green, black and white uniform that the alien still wore.

Barbara Gordon was a Green Lantern!

But in one single instance, the structure of the Universe _snapped_. Her sudden elation transformed into abject horror as she heard the crack that emerged from Trigon's fist… echoed in her heart.

Clark was dead.

She had been too late to save him, the greatest hope they had…

And she had failed…

In a blinding flash of light, Love gave her a second chance to make it _right_.

Suddenly, it was four seconds ago.

There was no hesitation this time as she went straight for the ring. No fear as Trigon cried out in agony after being struck by a white beam from above. This time there was only an unstoppable resolve to save Clark from the fate she had been shown, to save the man she had given her heart to, before his life was crushed by the demon reaching down to destroy him. As the ring slipped on her finger once again in this new reality, her heart and mind suddenly cleared of everything else except for the one chance they had…

The voice in her mind welcomed her to the Green Lantern Corps once again - as her will connected directly to the Central Power Battery on Oa. She became a being of pure will, a conduit of power across the Universe, unleashing a beam unlike _any_ before, a nuclear reaction of will and desperation to save the life of the last Kryptonian… the man she loved.

**"You will ****_NOT _****harm him!"**

Her vision, her very soul itself, had become nothing but emerald light until she thought she would be lost. For a moment, the power of the Universe flowed through her ring, blasting the God that had stood before them - the power to create and destroy entire worlds.

And then Trigon was _gone_.

Like a million crackling green embers drifting in the wind.

_Had she done it?!..._

Clark remained on the invisible floor, alive… She thanked all that was Holy for his life. She was aware of Bruce looking at her in shocked amazement… as she slowly felt herself _falling_… the floor! It had disappeared! She could use her ring! The alien had flown… that meant she could too, right?

Nothing happened.

The ring's power was spent. So she fell, Clark fell, and then it went _dark_… and she landed on the sand one hundred feet away from the crater. Clark also landed beside her, still unconscious, but still alive. Bruce and Raven stood only yards away from her with Raven clearly winded…

"…That's a little farther apart than I'm used to."

She had teleported them! Wearing a wide grin, Barbara ran to hug her sister, firmly embracing the smaller woman in joyous celebration. By God, they had done it!

"He's really gone, Raven! We've won!"

"He is gone, Barbara… but I cannot say for how long."

"C'mon, I just blasted him into green _sparks_. Nothing could have survived that."

"How does one kill revenge, sister?"

"By blasting it into a million green sparks, that's how!" Barbara grinned at Raven again - until Bruce spoke up…

"_Sister_?... Is there something I should know?…" Before she could stop her, Raven replied while Barbara began to turn a deep shade of crimson.

"Barbara said that after she had kissed you, it felt like she was your sister. So we have made a pact to be sisters."

"… Does that make me her brother?"

"Brother-in-law, _actually_," Barbara announced triumphantly.

"Well, welcome to the family then, Barbara Gordon – Green Lantern."

Bruce grinned that copyrighted smirk at her, joining in the embrace of the two women who _were_ his family now, so that they held one another and breathed a collective sigh. As the morning shone in its full glory upon the sands of Kahndaq, it was nice that they _could_ do this, after coming so close to demonic annihilation just moments before.

"… Someone approaches." Raven's ability to sense emotions often acted like a sixth sense for her.

The trio stepped apart from one another as they watched a female figure approach from the south… one that seemed to have stepped directly out of the past… a gladiator, or Roman Centurion of times gone by.

She wore leathered red boots, with white metal shin guards in front. Around her waist hung fifty-two blue leather Roman pteruges, each with a white star at its end – to create an armoured skirt. Her moulded breast plate was red-and-gold, crafted of lines creating a winged bird of prey upon her chest as a symbol.

She carried a golden Centurion helmet with red plumage in her right hand while a blue-starred shield was fastened to her left. At her left side (thankfully sheathed) was an ornate sword of legend, the gladius. On her right hip hung a golden lasso coiled into loops. Her long dark hair was worn loose, cascading over impressive, bare shoulders framed by the tattered white cloak draped across her back. This woman had fought a war.

After the shock of witnessing her armament, it had taken Bruce a moment to realize that this strange woman was _stunning_. His awe was broken when Raven pinched his backside. He hastily whispered his apologies to her…

_"__Sorry. Don't worry, she's not my type."_

"I don't believe you are her_ type,_ either, my love."

Raven winked and then grinned knowingly at her husband as the tall Amazon strode directly at Barbara Gordon, placing her right hand upon the shocked woman's shoulder.

"Thank Hera! Our legends had told us the Green-Ring-Sorcerer had been a red-skinned man. How fortuitous that I now find it is a red-haired sorceress. I witnessed your power from afar, fair one."

"Thank you… who are you?"

"My apologies… I am Princess Diana of Themyscira of the Amazons. My sisters and I have journeyed far to join the battle of the red demon as foretold by prophecy. We have been cutting through his demon horde since we landed upon the shores of this land. Thank the Gods that you arrived when you did, Sorceress. Many of my sisters have already fallen…"

"…Are they alright?"

"We shall see. If they were lost, their souls will return to Themyscira to be re-born. I am sorry I was too late to add my blade to this battle. My sisters cry out for vengeance still against this Lord of Evil."

"It may not be over _yet_…" Bruce replied.

"And what would you know of this… _man_?" There was scorn in her voice. It was as though she didn't like him.

"This was no mere demon, Princess. That was the God of Revenge."

"Nemesis is no demon, _man_."

"My name is Bruce… That wasn't a true demon. There are _New_ Gods. This one's name is Trigon."

"Aye, I had heard the men of the world outside had abandoned the _true_ faith. So it is true, you have scorned the gods of old to worship devils."

"Princess Diana," Raven interrupted, "there are many Gods who go by many names. It is correct the Gods of old have fallen from favor in this world, but men do not worship demons. My husband fights for me, and to save our world."

"You have taken this man for your own? Then it is _right_ that you should speak for him… You have the look of a sorceress as well. What is your name, girl?"

"I am Raven Wayne. My husband is free to speak as he sees fit, as am I."

"As I am free to ignore both of you... Let us seek out my sisters, Green-Ring-Sorceress, they will overjoyed to meet you. It will lift their spirits after this bloody battle."

No one had noticed the strange alien who had joined them…

"Barbara Gordon has immediate business with me, I'm afraid."

They all turned to see a small blue man with white hair standing before them. He wore a red-and-white robe with the symbol of a Green Lantern on his chest. In his hands he carried a green lantern battery, almost half as large as he was, emerald energy sparking in its core.

"Greetings, I am Ganthet of Oa. This newest Green Lantern, Barbara Gordon of Earth, is now my charge. We have _much_ to discuss…"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Princess Diana of Themyscira of the Amazons is (_of course_) Wonder Woman. As this is an Alternate Universe story, you may have noticed she's a little _different_ from the current DC version. Amazons are trained from birth to be warriors and live in an all-female society, the hidden island of Themyscira.

The Amazons only left their home during World War II to covertly defend their Isle when the war of men came too close to their shores. In this story, Diana has never been to America and rarely ventured outside of the island.

The warriors of Themyscira are much closer to ancient Greece and Rome in philosophy, customs and beliefs than people of the modern world - remaining the subjects of the old Gods, particularly the female deities such as Hera, Artemis and Athena.

Amazons employ the use of seers and oracles to foretell of the nature of the outside world. This was how they knew of Trigon. And, as in the comics, no man is allowed to set foot upon Themyscira under penalty of death. Diana does not trust or respect men (in this case, Bruce) and much prefers and enjoys the company of strong women (in this case, Barbara). To an Amazon, strength is independence.

Also, Amazons (including Diana) do _not_ have the power of flight. Being extremely powerful, Diana can leap great distances, but when she _needs_ to fly, she will use one of the white-winged horses of Themyscira. And there is no such thing as an invisible jet…

So how do Amazons have babies you ask?... Good question! I'm leaning towards the George Pérez interpretation where they are eternal guardians to Doom's Doorway, one of the entrances to the Underworld. Once slain, their souls would return to Themyscira and new bodies of clay created for them to be re-born as baby girls to fulfill their eternal obligation.

Diana herself was actually crafted from clay by her mother, Queen Hippolyta and imbued with life by the Gods themselves, making her an immortal Princess. The Titan Prometheus used the same process to create the race of man in Greek mythology, but as mortals.

Ganthet is one the Guardians of the Universe, an inhabitant of Oa who lead and administer the Green Lantern Corps. He is about four feet tall, blue-skinned, immortal and very old.


	116. Chapter 116

**Chapter Thirteen: With This Ring…**

**CXVI  
The Universe's Most Wanted**

Stepping across the morning desert of Kahndaq, the short, blue-skinned Guardian called Ganthet walked confidently towards Barbara Gordon, her Green Lantern Power Battery now hovering in an emerald glow before him.

Mere feet away, still unconsciously rebuilding himself in the sun, lay Clark… In a supreme twist of fate, the Kryptonian's life had been given _back_ to him by the weapon Lex Luthor had constructed to eliminate the aliens of his past. Princess Diana, Bruce and Raven stood and stared at this new, shorter, blue alien who had nonchalantly appeared out of nowhere to address Barbara.

"That was _most_ impressive Barbara Gordon of Earth. In the entire history of the Green Lantern Corps, we have had only sixteen recorded instances where a Lantern was able to _fully_ drain their Power Ring in a single, all-powerful beam as you have just done. Until moments ago, the number of Lanterns who had done such a feat on their very first attempt was zero. Your will was able to override all internal protections built into the ring... _Amazing_!

However, if you insist on emptying the ring of its _entire_ charge in the future, it would be wise _not_ to place the Power Battery in a pocket dimension, as Abin Sur had done. Otherwise, you will not be able to retrieve it. To be clear, a trip to section 2804 is a substantial burden for an old Guardian such as myself, and consumes much power from the Central Battery on Oa. But these are extraordinary times, I suppose…

Now Barbara Gordon, please place your appendage with the ring into the Power Battery right here… Good. Now, you must repeat this oath with me and _mean_ it in your heart for the ring to recharge. The Corps is all about conviction, my dear…

_In brightest day, in blackest night,  
No evil shall escape my sight_.  
_Let those who worship evil's might,  
Beware my power, Green Lantern's light!"_

After finishing the oath, Barbara felt an immense surge of power travel through her ring and connect directly with her conscious mind. And then, the Universe was alive with possibility again. Suddenly, a green glow surrounded her entire body as she tried something she had only dreamed about, letting her feet leave the ground…

_She could fly!_

Landing upon the Earth once more, she wore a smile that she thought she'd _never_ wear again. Ganthet eyed her patiently, like an old man beholding a child with a new toy, while he continued…

"Yes, there are many new things the ring will allow you to do…"

"Is it _magic_, Ganthet?" Staring quizzically at the ring, Barbara couldn't help but inquire. She _had_ to know how it worked.

"…Magic? No, certainly not! It's very technical, an interface between your conscious mind and the power stored on Oa with the Battery as a transformer. Your will is the catalyst. You are bound by the laws of the Universe, I assure you. Normally, you would be taken to Oa for extensive training and education as to the nature of the ring's power and your responsibilities, but as I had mentioned, these are extraordinary times. And I'm afraid your immediate responsibilities are _very_ close at hand…"

"Is Trigon still alive?" It was Bruce.

"We are uncertain. Trigon is a multi-dimensional entity who has access to _all_ known realms of existence… and those that are unknown. The Guardians will continue to monitor for his presence across this Universe. But still, the full discharge of a Power Ring should be sufficient to destroy or severely incapacitate any known demon…"

"He's _not_ a demon," corrected Bruce.

"The readings from Abin Sur's ring clearly indicated a demonic presence... "

"He is a God," Raven spoke this time. "The God of Revenge… A member of what you may know as the New Gods, the lost, older brother of Darkseid, ruler of Apokolips."

"That is a name I do not care for... Still, whatever he is, Trigon has broken the laws which were decreed for the Universe, and as its Guardians we are sworn to uphold those laws. This brings me to my second matter… I'm afraid the council of Oa has voted to detain the young lady known as Raven. She has been deemed a threat to the order of the Universe and is to be held on Oa in custodial stasis until this threat has been confirmed to be contained or eliminated…"

"…_What_?!" Barbara was incredulous.

"The evidence is very clear, young Green Lantern… as is your _duty_. The criminal called Trigon has clearly indicated that his daughter is a part of his calculated design for the destruction of this Universe. Thus Raven, Trigon's daughter, is a _threat_ to the Universe. The council has voted it so. If it makes you feel any more comfortable, I voted against that resolution, but it still does not alter the outcome. Raven must be delivered to Oa."

"But she's my sister… Ganthet, I can't."

"The decisions of the Council are binding and absolute until such time as they are appealed by the Council."

Diana placed her firm right hand, clutching her golden lasso, upon Raven's shoulder. The Amazon spoke softly to Trigon's daughter.

"Is it true? That demon was your father?"

"It is true. He disguised his form and raped my mother. I was born from that union."

Diana then removed her hand and stepped in _front_ of Raven, shielding the young woman, to speak to the Guardian directly.

"Have you declared this young woman guilty for the sins of her father? Has she broken any of your laws?"

"She has not. But she has been judged to be the key to the destruction of the Universe. We need only to remove the key…"

"In the Amazon tribe, several of my sisters are the daughters of male Gods who seduced or raped Amazon women. We judge these half-daughters for their _own_ actions and natures - not for the crimes perpetrated by their fathers upon their mothers. Many of them have risen to be mighty warriors, oracles, and gifted artisans. By what _right_ do you to declare Raven a criminal?"

"Not a criminal, Diana of Earth, a _threat_. All logic will arrive at the same conclusion. The issue has been fully debated and decided by beings that were wise before your _own_ amorous Gods ever emerged from the Source millennia before. The Guardians of the Universe will protect _all_ life as per our prerogative…"

Bruce interrupted in his wife's defense…

"You grant your Green Lanterns one of the most powerful weapons in the Universe. Do you deem them to be a threat as well?"

"They are a tool of _order_, Mr. Wayne; their conduct is continually assessed and judged by the Council of Oa. Truly, this was a _difficult_ decision for us, I assure you, but one that is necessary to maintain the safety of the Universe from immediate, extraordinary danger… There are simply threats that are _too_ large - with a very small window of containment - presented to us every handful of millennia. Your wife, I regret… is one of them."

"Ganthet… I can't." Barbara Gordon removed the Power Ring from her finger. "Raven has done everything in her power – and even _beyond_ her power - to save us, to save this world. She has borne her pain, her tragedy, her struggles, with the distinction of a _true_ hero. In the time I have known her, she has been an inspiration to me. I owe her my life… I can't repay her like _this_…"

"This is the price of duty, Barbara Gordon. It is sometimes _very_ steep... But as I said, you have yet to be indoctrinated into the roles and responsibilities of the Green Lantern Corps, so the Council will not hold you accountable for this decision. Indeed, due to the Universe-altering consequences of this decision, there was a resolution to send reinforcements…"

"…_Reinforcements_?"

Each of them watched as six aliens shimmering with green power suddenly appeared from the sky, dressed in the apparel of the Green Lantern Corps. Each of these six aliens pointed their ring at Raven, hovering in the blue sky as the day's heat started to swelter upon the sands. For a second, there was absolute silence… until Ganthet continued.

"And now, Trigon's daughter… Will you accompany us _willingly_ to Oa?"

The elder Guardian was answered only with two sulfurous, crimson puffs of smoke - as both Raven and Bruce _disappeared_…

* * *

**Next Chapter:** Join us next time when we find out what happened to Scott, Barda, Orion and Lightray! Same Bat-Time, Same Bat-URL!


	117. Chapter 117

**CXVII  
Undone**

**Author's Note:**In Norse mythology, _Bifröst_ is the rainbow bridge that connects _Midgard_ (Earth) and _Asgard_ (the Kingdom of the Gods). In this story, the New Gods have harnessed Bifröst as the physical lining of Boom Tubes, except they call it "bi-frost".

And speaking of New Gods, we left Scott, Barda, Orion and Lightray way back in Chapter 105 on Elysium after their encounter with the lethal Darkseid. We have to step back a little in time… moments before Raven appeared in front of her father to make 'The Deal' to save the Earth from Bruce's Engine of Destruction.

We now pick up their story in an Elysium devoid of Father Cronus, moments after Arella had sacrificed herself to rescue Raven from Darkseid's Omega Beams and seconds after Raven had an out-of-body experience in desolate Azarath, returning to her physical body, only to depart once more back to Bruce...

* * *

Scott watched as Raven departed, leaving Orion with only tendril wisps of smoke snaking through his fingers where once his cousin had once been…

_If it had been anyone but Barda…_

If it had been _anyone_ but Barda… he would _never_ have used the Anti-Life Equation in the presence of Darkseid. Even if it had meant his own life, he would have died willingly without letting the God of Tyrants witness the Equation at work.

But he couldn't lose her.

To save Barda's life, Scott had shown Darkseid who truly possessed the Anti-Life Equation. And now the dread Lord of Apokolips would relentlessly hunt him like an animal for the remainder of his Eternal days - until Darkseid possessed the equation that removed _all_ free will - enabling his mad step-father to make _all_ sentient life bow to his every whim.

It was the _only_ tool the stone-faced God of Tyranny required to take control of the entire Universe… and it was lodged in the mind of Scott Free. Under the oppressive skies of Apokolips, the God of Freedom had also become the God of Subservience, cursed with the power to take away all individual freedom. He was the living epitome of freedom and the loss of it.

Even now, Scott was certain Darkseid would be preparing the terrible theatre of operation on Apokolips to pull the formula out of his mind (most likely killing him at the same time), and allowing Darkseid's to become the _only_ free will in the Universe. Scott was the antithesis of evil Darkseid, but he did not know how to keep the spirit of freedom alive within the Cosmos when the Great Tyrant's ultimate ambition was suddenly so close to his treacherous grasp…

The manipulative Lord of Despots would never fight a battle directly, relying instead on hidden schemes and underhand tactics to gain final victory. There would never be an unguarded moment in Scott and Barda's lives from this point forward. The agents of Apokolips could be waiting around any corner for them… to take them back to Apokolips.

Barda and Raven had travelled to New Genesis seeking allies but had instead enlisted disaster…

And now, Darkseid had ensured the flow of time had once again returned to the Land of the Dead. Cronus, the elder God of Time had been beheaded by the evil Lord of Apokolips to start the countdown to his final victory over free will. Elysium had fallen alongside its ancient King and now the land was dying. The entire plane of existence they stood upon was shaking itself apart, tumbling into the Rivers of Oblivion to be forgotten in time.

"We must travel to battle, Scott Free!" As dejected as Scott felt, Orion was _overjoyed_ in equal measure at the prospect of the approaching fight.

"Travel _where_, Orion?"

"To Earth, Scott Free… to fight the demon Trigon!" Orion clapped him on the shoulder. "And _then_ - if the blood in you still courses _hot_ through those noble veins, child of Izaya - you may travel with me to Apokolips where I shall break the Pact and make my vile father pay _dearly_ for his crimes against my beleaguered cousin."

"Trigon?... That may not be the best idea, Orion."

"You have suffered a grave injury, step-brother. Your reticence does you no disservice. But the lust for battle in _this_ warrior's heart beats the drums of war across the very Universe _itself_! Blood must be spilled if Orion is ever to rest once more."

"Orion, we need time to think about this…"

"There's no time, Scott!" It was Barda who interrupted over the earthquake which shook the ground. "This whole place is coming apart! We have to go… _now_!"

His wife opened the Boom Tube with her Mega Rod as she waved them in. Barda was correct, they did have to leave immediately. But there was _something_ that gnawed at Scott about Trigon… Their battle should have been with Darkseid, not Raven's father. The Earth was worth saving, certainly, but some instinct told him _not_ to take this fight…

The instant his foot had stepped out of the Boom Tube onto the near-dawn soil of Kahndaq, Scott realized their mistake… The Prince of New Genesis and the Prince of Apokolips, the two key components of The Pact between two worlds, never permitted to set foot upon the world of their birth… had just stepped in front of a God who could transport anyone _anywhere_ with but a mere thought.

They could not confront Trigon without jeopardizing The Pact.

"Orion, we have to go back!"

Scott vainly attempted to restrain the mighty warrior from his charge. Orion bolted like a mad bull at the massive, red God as thunder rolled across the dark sky leaving an empty-handed Scott stumbling in Orion's fierce wake... unheeded, but by one.

It was a calm voice two hundred feet above him that answered his declaration, crystallizing all sudden fears within Scott Free as he witnessed his three quick companions disappear into nothing more than crimson puffs of smoke.

"Yes… they _do_." Trigon stared intently at Scott.

An almost nude Mister Miracle now stood alone, staring at the full-sized God of Apokolips who grinned back at him. Scott could Boom Tube away, but he did not know where Trigon had sent his companions… He could use the Equation once more if required to command the Demon to bring them back, but Trigon spoke once more.

"To answer your question, I have sent them to gaze upon Gods who dare _too_ much… But you, you have a _familiar_ look. What is your name?"

"I am called Scott Free."

"A _terrible_ name… And what are you the God of, Scott Free?"

"Freedom."

"How droll. And you are in direct opposition to my brother, Uxas, I assume?"

"He is called Darkseid now… and I am."

"Ahhh… You are Izaya's son, aren't you?! You have his manner of speech. Your father and I, long ago we often sat at the same tables at the feast, shared the same wine, boasted of the glory of the hunt… _Before_ my brother engineered the war between our worlds. You and I… we are _not_ enemies, Scott Free."

"Then why have you done _this_, Trigon? Why have you killed countless lives indiscriminately… those who were neither friend nor foe?!"

The Great Beast smiled broadly in the darkness.

"I will tell you a secret, Scott Free… so that you may convey my words to wise Izaya and impart the bitter truth of what has been laid before me. I speak as Izaya's friend Drax, not the monster my brother has made of me…

All that I have done, Scott Free… The trillion souls I have devoured as Trigon, has been in the name of the future. I have been shown what will come to pass and it is a tragedy beyond even the dreams and nightmares of Gods…

My brother _wins_, Scott Free.

This sad destiny of dark tyranny shall come to pass. I have seen the future, and the weave of Fate shall be cast in stone. _His_ stone. The Great Tree shall be as a statue of rock, a living thing no longer. The Source shall shine for Darkseid alone. This is the vision I have been granted… But I will destroy this Universe before I let him rule it!"

"Darkseid will be stopped, Trigon. You need not destroy the Universe to see Fate spun in a pattern more pleasing to your eyes."

"_Stopped_, Scott Free?... Can the destiny of a God be stopped? Your father, my brother, myself, we are _true_ Gods. From the instant of our birth, our fates were cast, each of us predestined into the weave. Just as each immortal God before our Fourth World came into being were knowingly prophesied to fall in the fiery onslaught of Ragnarok, so too will the great Tree of Fate Yggdrasil be turned to stone and all Fate _stopped_… this is the Age stone-willed Uxas will bring to pass."

"I too am a true God. Fate _will_ be altered, Trigon. You will be shown."

"All you have shown me is _how_ Uxas achieves his destiny, Scott Free. You carry the one and only lesson he requires to fulfill stone-carved providence inside your thoughts and emotions. No… The Age of Tyranny is upon us. Now quickly, my daughter approaches to seal the Fate of this world. Talk to your father of my vision young one, and pray he does what is right with you…"

Before Scott could object, he was gone.

He traveled through the black of dimensional space once more. But this journey was _much_ farther than when Raven had rescued himself and Barda two days before. He realized that Raven and Trigon's power to transport matter was _like_ a Boom Tube, but without the rainbow bi-frost coating to safeguard the traveler. Demons must travel this way…

And then, to a startled crowd of courtesans, Scott Free appeared in a puff of crimson smoke before the magnificent throne of New Genesis, before the mighty Highfather Izaya himself… Cast across the Universe by a mere thought, Scott appeared to his own father for the first time since he was a newborn - bartered to the mercies of Apokolips to seal The Pact. A God of Freedom who had never been free to return home.

Until now.

When his bare foot touched the gilded marble floor, a thousand streams of light shining in the hues of rainbows danced around him, spun him and cradled him in a loving kaleidoscope of color. The Stars of the Heavens twinkled in the air around him while gossamer threads wove themselves through vaulted ceilings into the constellations of all Gods - a Universe of beauty unfolded before them.

The calm waters from the pool of the Memory Sea surrounding the limb of Yggdrasil in the courtyard spun and became a frothy whirlwind rising upwards – until it crashed down into the pool once more, like a thousand beating drums to announce his arrival while the myriad colors sparkled like fading embers throughout the throne room.

The Prince of New Genesis had returned.

The Pact was undone.

A stunned Highfather stared at the stranger who had appeared before him, _knowing_… knowing in conflicting extremes of love and fear that this was his son! The Pact was undone, but his own son had come home to him…

"Scott Free… First-born Prince of New Genesis… My son. Welcome home."

"Izaya the Inheritor… Highfather…. My father." Scott bowed before his father. "I am _truly_ sorry to appear like this… to unwind The Pact between the two worlds. I was sent in this careless manner by another God… to convey a message to you, Father of Peace."

"What vital message could be worth a war of the Gods, my son?"

"It is from the eldest born of Yuga Khan, the God you knew as Drax who has now taken the name of Trigon…"

"_Drax_?! He was murdered by treacherous Darkseid, I _know_ this…"

"Drax was destroyed - but only for Trigon to be inseminated in the Omega Fires… One is the aspect of the other. As Izaya recreated himself before the Source, so too was Drax reborn within the womb of the Infinity Pit… We faced him in battle, father. Before mighty Orion, Lightray or my wife could land even one blow, they were sent to the void by the power of Trigon, while he sent your heir to you with a message… Have the others returned to New Genesis?"

"They have not, my son. Be at peace, I will find them."

Izaya gripped his Staff of Power, casting his vast consciousness throughout the infinite expanse of space, scouring the very edges of existence itself _until_…

"By The Source! He has placed them next to the Wall itself! No Boom Tube could ever function so close to the unbreakable pull of the Source Wall. It is the resting place of all foolhardy Gods who seek to rule the Source. Take my hand, my son… This will require effort, even for myself."

Scott took the strong hand of his father and gave him _all_ strength required to bring the three back to New Genesis. The God of Freedom had only to think of his Barda. In seconds, the three displaced Gods appeared in a blinding light…

"By the Fires of Apokolips! I care _nothing_ for that place!" Barda was back and as loud as ever... until she spied Scott and the power in her voice suddenly transformed into an even mightier embrace, lifting the God of Freedom a full foot off the ground, trapped in the two arms he hoped he would never escape from.

"Scott! You had to come to New Genesis to save us _and_…" The realization dawned upon Barda of exactly _where_ they had reappeared as she set him down. If Scott had travelled to New Genesis, then…

Izaya completed her thoughts…

"Yes my daughter, The Pact is _broken_ …Clearly, there was a well-calculated _trap_ that has been sprung, but I do not know which brother has laid it, Uxas or Drax. Speak to me the message of _Drax_… of Trigon, my son."

"Trigon spoke to me, saying that he had seen the destiny of all and that Darkseid will prevail. The Dark Lord's preordained right of oppression will be realized. The weave of Fate in the Great Tree Yggdrasil will be cast in stone, until all destiny is stopped and the Tree becomes only petrified rock while the Source shines of Darkseid alone… That the Age of Tyranny is now upon us. And that Trigon will destroy the Universe before he allows his brother to rule it..."

There was a gasp of shock from the surrounding courtesans of New Genesis as mighty Orion cried out…

"Then the choice is _clear_, father! The Pact is no more, the pathway to Apokolips now opened. We must bring war to those fiery shores and destroy the Great Tyrant before his brother destroys more worlds!"

Izaya quieted his step-son with a single stare.

"I have already sent you into one trap, Orion. I do not wish to send _both_ my sons into another. By all accounts, I do not believe this was the foul workings of Darkseid, but his schemes have more layers than we have years combined. Be not _hasty_ for battle Orion, Apokolips has prepared _far_ too well for war against us. I cannot say the same of carefree New Genesis… Did Trigon speak any further of the dread prophecy, first-born?"

"Yes, Highfather… That I carry the one and only tool Darkseid requires to fulfill his stone-carved providence inside my own thoughts and emotions… the Anti-Life Equation."

Another gasp from the crowd. A few of the female Gods swooned in shock.

"A frightening burden, to be sure. How did this come to be, my son?"

"As my birthright, you christened me the God of Freedom, Highfather... In your eternal wisdom, you declared that Apokolips could _never_ enslave my heart for which I am eternally grateful. Save for my eternal love for Barda, my heart has remained free since that time.

But in the foul air of Darkseid's reign, I fostered _another_ aspect of my dominion. His dark oppression fuelled a sad change in my divine light - until a shadow was cast across my sad heart. In corrupt Apokolips, that darkness became the God of Subservience … the power to grant absolute freedom granted by my true father was joined by the power to remove it completely, unwittingly granted by my step-father.

All thoughts and emotions, all aspects of liberty and slavery have ravaged the unchained landscape of this heart until the Equation became known to me. Trigon has told me that this is the tool Darkseid will use to achieve his new Age of Tyranny…"

"Does Darkseid know you possess this power, my son?"

"He _does_… Mere moments ago, I had to command the Tyrant himself to depart from us to save the life of Barda. I had sworn to keep it secret…"

"All secrets are revealed _eventually_, my son. Before the great war, there was a God who sought to seek out _all_ secrets of the Universe who cared nothing of our Godly passions… He was called Metron. It was he who gave us the technology of the X-element, the material of the Boom Tube from the bi-frost of old. I have not seen him for _millennia _but remember him even now… I must grow nostalgic, forgive an old God while he reminisces.

There is no doubt that Darkseid will attempt to extract the Equation from you my son, but he will not attack you directly. If you possess the equation, then he fears you. You may become his master. I'm afraid there is only one way to truly defeat him in this matter."

"To destroy him?!" Orion looked hopeful.

"No, second-son… Had Scott wished to destroy him, he could have done so with the Equation. It is a testament to the nobility of his spirit that Scott did _not_ do so - especially after living his young life under the cruel thumb of the Tyrant. To ensure this vision does not come to pass, we have but one unfortunate remedy…

To _remove_ the equation."


	118. Chapter 118

**CXVIII  
Freedom's Last Stand**

"Highfather… you cannot mean _to_…" The agony was apparent in Barda's voice as she struggled to finish her words to noble Izaya.

"No my dear, we may remove the Equation _without_ taking my son's life... But still, there may be considerable consequences. The Equation is firmly rooted within the most powerful emotions and memories of Scott's entire life. There is no possibility of simply making him forget the Equation without the subsequent loss of these past experiences…"

"He will still remember me though, won't he?…" Barda wrapped her strong arms around Scott once more.

"Of course he will. But there will be moments in time forever lost to him. But this is the price he must pay if we are to avoid the dire prophecy…"

A deep voice of scorn interrupted the Highfather.

"I am afraid your Fate has been already _sealed_, Izaya…"

The crowd gasped as the hologram of Darkseid appeared once more in the opulent throne room of New Genesis. The arrogant, stone-faced God leered at the cowering throng before he continued on…

"The Pact has been _broken_, Inheritor. Your son has now returned to his father's shores. The Age of Peace has ended…. _However_, if you deliver him back to me immediately… I shall honor our Pact and keep peace between us. Apokolips _also_ wishes to avoid an unnecessary war."

"_Honor_?! There is _no_ honor in you, Darkseid. Would an honorable God have his own mother poisoned so that he may ascend to the throne? Or engineer a war between our worlds only so he may rule his own? You care for one thing and one thing only - _power_. Scott possesses the Anti-Life Equation – the tool that will allow you to crush the free will of all sentient life under the heels of your sadistic boots. You will _never_ have him!"

"You are sentimental, Izaya. My mother was obsolete and unnecessary. As are we all – yet only I have the humility to comprehend this… or the ambition to ascend to our full stature. Even you know that we are not the oldest or most powerful beings in the Universe, and yet we still call ourselves its _Gods_… We are nothing more than fools. I speak only in truth. Your memories of the war seem _different_ than mine, Inheritor.

It was not I who sent New Genesis _or_ Apokolips to war. You attacked to quench your _own_ need for revenge, as I recall… raising the deadly stakes of destruction until both worlds were but one tiny step from the abyss of Oblivion. Do you recall your role in the deaths of my world, or has the Source burned all such unpleasantness from your mind?

Then let Darkseid remind you, God of Wanton Opulence… We fought and gods died. New Genesis sought to extinguish all lights of Apokolips as well. Each of us has blood on our hands, Inheritor. But did I not grant you your heart's desire in order to end our war? Did I not conspire to send my own _murderous_ uncle into your waiting army to pay for his barbaric crimes? To finally drown the fires of hatred burning in Izaya's warrior-heart, and allow us to establish peace?

The peace that has allowed a vindicated Izaya to rule this small, floating Paradise as a caring father to all. And now, within your grasp, you have what is the very _birthright_ of Gods… the Anti-Life Equation! All thinking-life would call you 'Father'… Yet you would drown our salvation like an unwanted kitten, to shirk our divine responsibility for ignorance.

The Source has _transfixed_ you, Inheritor - like a flower that only watches the sun; you follow only its divine light. Your pupils have been made _too_ wide to peer into shadows of green and what terrible secrets lurk below. Those secrets will enslave us if we do not enslave them first.

Truly, you have no concept of what was _taken_ from us, Izaya… Let Darkseid show you what it is to be a God! All of you… you have been made into slaves already, yet you are too content in your gilded cage to realize it. Or perhaps you wish my brother to destroy all of you so you may continue living the lie of ignorant dreams."

"I am no one's slave, Darkseid. All is revealed to me _through_ the Source."

"Is it, Izaya?... Shall we ask the God of Knowledge, then? Could you locate Metron for me so that we may pose that question of him?"

"… Metron has traveled beyond the Wall, outside of our time."

"So there are things that even the Source may not see… _interesting_. Metron is still within the Universe, I assure you. He bears a fate worse than death with a sister you have chosen to forget."

"… Abraxa died at the beginning of the Fourth World, Darkseid. What game do you play…"

"She only _wishes_ she had died, Izaya. As does my own Aunt, Zareah who is enslaved beside her… There are threads that Fate has hidden _beneath_ our memories, if you but care to look. We Gods are simple pawns to the masters of Destiny, and we all serve in our chosen ways… but _enough_ of this. Darkseid bows to no one. I alone will ascend the throne that was stolen from us, Izaya. Now... Give me Scott Free."

"Though the price of my answer may be war, you shall _not_ have my son!"

"_War_, Izaya?" Darkseid laughed heartily as if a great jest had just unfolded. "There will be no war... I have bombarded this floating city with enough synthesized Element-X to Boom Tube it directly into the heart of a Black Hole. With but a simple thought, New Genesis will be…" Darkseid snapped his fingers for effect "…no more. The days of war have long passed us by, old friend. Now decide."

"You would sacrifice the New Gods themselves in your mad lust for power?!"

"Of course. Only to have them reborn on Apokolips… and raised to worship the one _true_ God… Darkseid."

"Monster! My answer remains the same!" Izaya pointed his staff at the hologram.

"No father…" Scott now spoke. "I will go… Darkseid, if I leave willingly, will you spare New Genesis and the lives of all Gods here?"

"A clear mind speaks!... I should have spoken to you _first_, Scott Free. So be it. Join me and remain on Apokolips, and do not use the Equation's powers against me… or any of my citizens, and New Genesis and its indolent Gods shall be spared."

"As a Prince of New Genesis, let this be the Pact between us."

"As the Lord of Apokolips, so let it be."

"_NOOOO_!" Barda gripped Scott tightly. "I won't let you do this! Let Darkseid be damned!"

"Barda, I _must_ do this. He does not make idle threats. Darkseid will destroy New Genesis… and _you_."

"Better dead than a slave! You don't know what it's really like, Scott, living under the tyranny of Darkseid… _Please_… There must be another way. I can't lose you… not when I just got you _back_…"

Scott kissed his wife one last time.

"Barda, I love you. More than _anything_, you have to remember that. You were the only thing that held my soul together. You were the one who gave me my life again. You can never die. Trust that our love will find a way. Promise me that."

A Boom Tube appeared in front of Scott while the image of Darkseid impassively spoke to him.

"It is time, Scott Free. Return to Apokolips - where you _belong_."

Izaya gripped his son by the shoulder to restrain him, a tear falling from his eye, woefully shaking his bearded head from side-to-side in denial. His son placed a gentle hand on his father's worn cheek, staring deeply into ancient blue eyes that showed a soul being torn apart. There were no words spoken between them, only the overwhelming sorrow of silence. Behind him, the mighty Barda fell to her knees, crushed by the weight of the cruel thing that her husband must do while the King of New Genesis felt his hand slip from the God of Freedom… his son.

Scott Free stepped into the Boom Tube.

On Apokolips, Darkseid and his cronies laughed. Their Lord was supreme.

On New Genesis, the Gods cried. But all the Gods _combined_ could not match the sorrow that devastated Barda…

Scott Free stepped out of the Boom Tube onto the burned floors of the Lord of Apokolips, kneeling before the stony carapace of a laughing Darkseid.

"Welcome home, step-son. How well you know your place!"

"Have I fulfilled my obligations, Dark Lord?"

"You will remain here for the rest of your life and not use the Equation against me or my citizens?"

"I will not."

"Then New Genesis will be spared. I declare our Pact valid, Scott Free."

"Then as a Prince of New Genesis, I also declare our Pact valid, Darkseid."

Scott then stood to his full height before he continued, glaring at the Lord of Apokolips directly… as the Equation now completed its final calculation of Sorrow and Hatred within his mind before he spoke his final words…

"Cast the Equation across the Sea of Oblivion and _die_, Scott Free!"

Darkseid watched in horror as the God of Freedom collapsed to the scorched stone…

Dead.

Eyes of Omega energy could only silently stare as the Black Racer carried off the only _hope_ that the God of Tyranny had _ever_ allowed himself to feel.

* * *

**Author's Note**: There _will_ be a happy ending! I pinkie-promise!

Abraxa and Zareah are New Gods that I have created. More on them in further chapters.


	119. Chapter 119

**CXIX  
Freedom's Last Stand: Epilogue**

In the gloom-filled corridors of New Genesis, Izaya the Highfather could only stand in numbed silence as the white lights of the Boom Tube closed with hopeless finality upon his first-born son - as numerous, wet tears filled the eyes of the New Gods in his darkened halls… Their Prince who had only just returned was once more lost… but Barda and Izaya had so _much_ more. What good was this eternal life without the freedom to live it? What father would trade his son only for the certainty of slavery? What thoughts could Scott have had?...

Scott Free had saved them… Izaya knew that the Pact he had made with the ruthless Darkseid was a _Gods' Pact_, crafted in binding Fate for perpetuity. Scott had made Darkseid unable to assault New Genesis… but with the Anti-Life Equation now in his grasp, why would he ever _need_ to? Scott's Pact had spared their lives, but given the monster Darkseid the destiny Izaya feared the worst of all... Their eternal lives were not _worth_ such a price as this!

Like a knife to his heart, he felt it.

And he _knew_ now what his son had done.

Proud Izaya knew… and was brought to his knees in the sharp grief only a parent may know. His only true son had sacrificed himself…

Then - in blinding light - the Source _itself_ appeared before them like a sun.

All gloom, all darkness, all sorrows were immediately dispelled from the lofty halls of New Genesis, crestfallen Gods bathed and brightened in the familiar light of their bright Creator, all divine aspects renewed and their hopeful dreams restored. All doubts, all limits, all barriers were removed from Gods as the light of the Source burned through their fears, leaving steadfast faith in its wake.

Before them, Words were written across the surface of the Source for all of them to see – the last message of a true God before the brightest light faded from the hallowed halls of New Genesis once more…

"To truly love Freedom,  
Is to sacrifice all for its life.  
With Freedom, ALL is possible.  
With Love, I am never lost.  
Believe in our love, Barda."

**_"_****_NNOOOOO!"_**

It was told that Barda's cry of pure anguish was heard even across the wide expanse of space, reaching Apokolips in the darkest corners of its derelict Armaghetto… Each God on both worlds now fully comprehended the deed that Scott Free had done… The God of Freedom had sacrificed his life for _all_ of them, for each and every sentient being in the Universe, Gods and mortals alike so that Freedom may live. He had fulfilled the new Pact and denied Darkseid his greatest victory - at the ultimate price of his own life. The Prince of Freedom had died for them – for hope.

"This has gone on long enough, Father!" Orion held his hammer high. "The Great Tyrant will _never_ cease his campaign to destroy _all_ of us, yet we only wait patiently like sobbing sheep for that fateful day!"

"Do not let your step-brother's sacrifice be in _vain_, Orion. He has bought us Peace once more at a heavy price."

"_Peace_?!… While we languish in this so-called _Peace_, Darkseid plots and schemes against us! I will show you how _not_ let my brother's sacrifice be in vain… To do what _should_ have been done ages before. Scott Free's name will be extolled by my own voice as I stand over Darkseid's broken corpse…"

"And I shall bring broken rocks back for your beautiful garden, Izaya…" Passing a hard hand across her tears, a chilling gaze of terrible purpose was now set into the cold eyes of Barda Free… Immeasurable grief had given sway to her omnipotent rage. "Children will whisper that these shards are the broken remains of a dark God. No flowers will grow there, I am sure, but I will spit on them all the same."

"Daughter, you are too young to remember the Great War, the suffering, the destruction… Do not do this! We will be destroyed by Apokolips!"

"Was it _you_ that claimed final vengeance for your lost Avia, Highfather? Was the Great War fought for such a cause?"

"At the cost of two worlds and countless Gods, it _was_ my daughter…"

"Then let me claim _mine_! As you avenged the mother, by all the stars in Heaven I will avenge the son!"

"Then let us strike together, sister!"

Using his Mother Box, Orion opened a Boom Tube to Apokolips and then threw the pinging device at his father's feet.

"I will need this no longer, Highfather. Too long has it struggled to placate this warrior's savage heart… but no longer. The Dog of War shall run _free_ this day!"

"You will jeopardize the lives of _all_ the Gods by doing this. Your actions of angry strife shall take a worldly toll on all of us, the cost too steep!"

"Then I alone shall pay the price of Freedom," retorted confident Barda who beheld her father-in-law in cold, blue eyes of steel, "since there are none others left willing to carry its sacred banner. Farewell, Highfather."

Barda stepped through the Boom Tube with Orion following behind her as once more Izaya watched another son and a new daughter disappear to fiery void Apokolips. Two Gods could not prevail against the savagery of Apokolips; no matter how great their justification… the dread world had become more war machine than planet, factories of destruction coursing through its very core.

Once the Boom Tube closed, fair Lightray placed a gentle hand upon Izaya's troubled shoulder.

"I must join them, Highfather. The light of reason may reach them yet - but I fear the worse. I hoped this day would not come, but Orion's anger knows no bounds."

"Then go, Shining Star of New Genesis. Protect them in your light. I have lived my life to avoid this tragic day… but I will do what I am able."

"Fare thee well, Highfather."

Izaya watched as Lightray disappeared… in such a small distance between worlds, the Living Star required no Boom Tube. Izaya had work to do…

* * *

_Meanwhile on Apokolips…_

With a clenched jaw, Darkseid pondered on _how_ to retrieve the Anti-Life Equation from the Sea of Oblivion… or could he _recreate_ it? Had Scott Free shown him enough that he would finally be able to unravel its ethereal variables on his own?...

"Master Darkseid?..."

The thin, robed man with dark, craven features (who had _dared_ to interrupt his master) was his master torturer, Desaad. The sycophant was a useful tool to be sure, but he had shown the impropriety to speak to his Lord without first being addressed. Such things were punishable by death.

"Desaad… If your very next sentence is not profoundly pleasing to my ears, I shall scatter your atoms across the surface of the five closest stars… Now _Speak, _dolt."

"Yes, Master… The results of the observations upon your resurrected brother have just arrived… We have correlated the data with what few records remain of your lost father, Yuga Khan to discover a very interesting similarity and..."

"Desaad, any fool with eyes can see they share the same power of absorbing life essence to increase their own divine might."

"Yes sire. But Drax's power is _different_. He does not absorb life essence, he instead absorbs _souls_… More precisely, he is able to render a soul down to its _components_ and store the brightest elements within himself, much like the Sea of Oblivion and the Source."

"…Go on, Desaad."

"From our understanding of the Source, the God Wave has been attuned to _all_ souls across the Universe in some measure. For higher Gods as yourself Lord Darkseid, the God Wave is synchronized completely within your mighty soul. For mortals, only a small echo – drowned out by countless non-harmonized frequencies – remains as but a small spark.

Yet, each mortal soul still carries some small trace of the Source within them… to be later carried across the Black Ocean to the Great Tree after their quick, meaningless lives have ended. Yet your brother has found a way to pluck these small shining bits from his victims upon their demise, casting off the remaining chaff to the Black Sea and has used these small shining lights to construct a _new_ Source within him."

"How _much_ of a Source, Desaad?"

"Our readings show it is quite _significant_, Sire... In his new life as Trigon, we believe he is responsible for the extinction of over a thousand worlds. With each life taken, each soul consumed, the Source within him has _grown_ to frightening proportions. A power even _greater_ than your own father's..."

"I will need these reports, Desaad. And you may live… for _now_."

"Yes Sire, you shall have them immediately!"

Desaad scurried off while the God of Tyranny turned to face the stars twinkling through the haze of acrid smoke that continually hung above his mechanized world. Beyond those stars and so long ago, his own father Yuga Khan had become yet another prisoner of the Source Wall, the final resting place of _all_ living beings who had laboured to claim the Source for their own. The graveyard of the power-mad.

It had been Yuga Khan's overriding desire to conquer the Source, to harness its infinite power. The ego-fueled fool had been claimed by the Source instead... a piece of its Wall serving as a living testament to the folly of those who seek to command the Source.

But the crimson-skinned Drax had been _clever_… If ambitious Trigon could not go to the Source, then he would bring the Source to him… bit-by-bit. To Darkseid, the Universe was a thing to be ruled, trillions of lives to be enslaved to his supreme will. He would not claim the Source, he would _command_ it's offspring… But to his four-eyed brother, the Universe was nothing more than an inky black mine, with trillions of glittering souls to be excavated and harvested, added to the glowing ball of divine power he had grown within him. He had become a living battery of the God Wave that had been broadcast across the Universe through the medium of souls.

"Like father, like son," Darkseid snickered.

The Dark Lord smiled as he realized what Desaad had given him. Just as his brother had attempted to claim the powers of the Omega Effect within the Infinity Pit for his own, only to be outplayed by the genius of Darkseid, so too would Darkseid outplay his brother even now. Like the Omega Effect, the power Trigon had harvested within him over his murderous millennia of labor could be _stolen_. Darkseid would claim Trigon's Source to add to his own power and then destroy his brother once more.

After all, Drax was so easily fooled…

"Master Darkseid! My apologies Sire… but we have been _invaded_!" Darkseid recognized this Captain as one of his internal security forces, but had no desire at this moment to recall his name.

"Invaded? By whom?"

"By your second-born, Orion and the former leader of the Furies, Big Barda Sire."

"A force of two? Against Apokolips?" Darkseid smiled. "Very well… It has been some time since we have had an adequate test of our defences, Captain. All soldiers of Apokolips should _revel_ in this glorious opportunity to prove themselves to me… Bring my idiot son Kalibak here."

"Yes Sire!"

Within seconds, a hulking, towering _brute_ of a God darkened Darkseid's doorway. His wild, black hair and straight, black beard formed a mane around an ugly, massive head that lay perched atop masses of strenuous muscle. The brute spoke in an idiotic growl.

"Father, you have summoned me?"

"I have indeed, Kalibak. I have matters outside of Apokolips which currently require my _undivided_ attention. However, your traitorous brother and the grief-stricken harpy of the God who recently denied me my _greatest_ victory have seen fit to invade our beloved Apokolips. As my heir, prove your pathetic worth to me… kill them."

"It will be done, father!"

"Oh, and Kalibak… I have recently discovered that my long, lost brother has sired a _daughter_. She is intelligent, beautiful and many _other_ things which you are not. With her, I believe there may be some slim hope for this bloodline where none had existed before. Bring me the heads of Orion and Barda and she shall be _yours_, my son."

A wide grin of fanged teeth was revealed across the maw of Kalibak as a sadistic gleam broke forth from the eyes of this fearsome God-beast. Bowing deeply to his father, he took his leave to engage in his deadly mission…

* * *

**Author's Note:** Next chapter, we find out where Raven and Bruce disappeared to… and it's _not_ a nice place… But it will change _everything_ you thought you knew about the DC Universe. It's going to be massive!


	120. Chapter 120

**CXX  
Ysmault**

Bruce Wayne didn't recognize _where_ he was, or the place his wife had brought him, but he was _certain_ he wasn't in Kansas anymore…

Hell, he wasn't even on Earth.

Like an Oz long since abandoned, the landscape was tinted in a bizarre, green glow, similar to a green Mars. Bruce was completely alone. The air was slightly acrid, heavy and decidedly stale, making his breathing uncomfortable and his eyes water. He was struggling to see farther than a few hundred yards. The gravity felt _similar_ to that of Earth, only slightly stronger, making his breathing even more laborious as he walked to explore this strange new world. There seemed to be traces of alien flora in the distance – but it could have been diffused emerald reflections of this strange radiance shimmering on jagged rocks.

Even the sky above him radiated with weird, emerald light, as if the planet were encased in a bright green dome… Stale as this alien air was, the surrounding atmosphere still crackled with the energy of an unknown emotional charge - making him feel confused and giddy - as if his subconscious had been unceremoniously dumped into his conscious mind, similar to the effects of a mind-altering chemical…

That thought _worried_ him.

Either this air was toxic to his brain, or there was an unseen, omnipotent psychic power nearby... However, with the events of the past week, perhaps he was simply becoming _delusional_. Stress and fatigue would do that, or so he had been told…

That fact that Raven was nowhere to be seen worried him the most…

After being threatened with detainment (or _worse_) by the Green Lantern Corps, his wife had obviously chosen the better part of valour and departed with Bruce in tow. But why would his gentle lady have chosen such an inhospitable place? And where was she?! Bruce had long comprehended that Raven lacked the necessary power to teleport another person without her continuous presence at their side, and yet here he was… alone and abandoned.

_…__Damn._

The sudden realization illuminated the farthest fringes of his conscious mind like an atomic explosion… with comparable ramifications of destructive possibility. He sucked in a deep breath of this stagnant air, exhaling slowly. He wanted to put off this realization as long as was possible, to try and remain rational. It had _not_ been Raven who had teleported him. Which meant it had been _someone_ else. Which meant…

"Welcome to Ysmault, defiler- of-daughters!"

_Trigon_…

Bruce turned to see the grinning, crimson God standing only eight feet tall once again - as he had been when last they had talked alone. The demon's left eye on top was still a scorched hole from where the Tachyon Cannon had struck him, a reminder of Bruce's desperate, fate-altering effort to save Clark's life. That left the demon with three glowing eyes, all boring into Bruce's soul. Besides the wound Bruce had inflicted, the God of Revenge seemed perfectly unscathed from Barbara's Power Ring assault of only moments before.

If only it could have been _that_ easy...

"Where is Raven, Trigon?"

"Perhaps I did not make myself clear when I said that you _alone_ were to be the eternal plaything of the demons of Ysmault… _Nothing_ was mentioned of my only daughter having to share your maddening fate. Be thankful for that, mortal. You may take small comfort in the fact that it shall be you and you alone which will now suffer cruelty _beyond_ the comprehension of men, that no others need to bear such agony as the man who has dared do _this_ to me!

As for my daughter, I have _much_ larger plans for little Raven once your smear has been removed from this tragic drama. She had already been promised to a _much_ worthier suitor _before_ you interfered and he awaits impatiently…

But enough of this! Where are my manners? Let me bid you welcome to your new home, thief-of-daughters. Before I take my leave though, it is time I brought you to your immortal hosts… they so rarely entertain guests. I bid you good bye, Bruce Wayne. We will never meet again..."

The demon laughed heartily as Bruce disappeared once again in a puff of crimson smoke... across to the other side of the planet to meet his dispensed Fate - alone once more, but with Trigon's vicious, mocking laughter still ringing in his ears.

The sight now revealed before him was beyond words… Beyond even mortal comprehension.

Testaments to insanity lay captured upon giant diagonal crucifixes.

Six figures - each at least two hundred feet tall - were stretched on enormous X-shaped crosses. He was a sane man standing before six captured dreamscapes, each as tall as a building but lacking its structure.

He realized why Trigon had called them _Inversions_… The first five crucified bodies were in a state of continual _flux_, undefined matter pinned to reality yet vainly struggling to return to their incorporeal states. Bruce recognized the familiar _symbol_ that adorned the heads of the monstrous nails struck through the out-of-phase hands and feet of these Inversions, affixing these dream-like unrealities to gigantic X-shaped crosses…

_The Green Lantern Insignia..._

Whatever had been done here had been the work of the Green Lantern Corps. And it had been no small accomplishment…

Taking a few steps forward and gazing upon the first figure, Bruce beheld a cosmic dance of darkness and soft light, swaying and swirling from side-to-side, to-and-fro in strange, almost rhythmic configurations... even upon the cross.

He felt himself being _drawn_ to this powerful ebb and flow, only managing to catch himself just before he stumbled to the ground, hypnotized by this regulated accord of gravity. The shifts and pulls _should_ have been predictable, but they were not – each wrapped in the mysteries of comprehension, unfathomable patterns.

There was a power here, strong beyond measure (even if subdued by the devices of the Green Lanterns) but the entity did not seem to Bruce _demonic_. Trigon has displayed a healthy respect, even a _fear_ of these beings... naming them demons most terrible. But to Bruce, this power did not feel malign. If he had to use a word, he would describe this inverted phantasm of light-and-darkness as something _primal_, perhaps _astronomic_, but certainly not evil.

Walking to the second figure, Bruce beheld three forms all trying to metaphysically occupy the same space. Each body quickly faded from one-to-the-other with the pinned hands and feet remaining the only fixed constant. A giantess wanting to be three things at once.

While the man from Gotham marvelled at this rapid alteration of images, he no longer felt the gravitational pull the first Inversion had exerted upon his physical body, causing him to become unsteady… instead, peering at the second Inversion, he felt it upon his _soul_.

The energy Bruce had sensed in the atmosphere upon his arrival to this strange, green world was now magnified a thousand fold. If he had felt power from the first Inversion, the second Inversion was like being struck by lightning - electrifying senses within him previously unseen and unknown. The world around him began to warp with new perception, to melt as the stars lowered from the sky…

The atmosphere was _not_ laced with a mind-altering chemical. It was laced with the powerful aura of the second Inversion. With new determination, Bruce turned and walked to the third Inversion, relying on his old senses.

One trillion threads of one billion shades looped and writhed in living cataclysm of coiled weave. The mire of thread composed a body, of sorts… but millions of strands shot upwards to the sky while a million more fell to the ground around him, forever tied to the _body_ of thread - fixed upon the cross. That prison could not be breached, even by a thing of thread.

Bruce did not feel mysterious power or a pull as he had from the first two Inversions. Instead, he felt the weight of the world bearing down upon him… a grim certainty that he would go mad if he remained in this place. This was something that had been determined from the very beginning of time. It was inevitable. His madness, then his death…

Something primeval burned in his soul and pushed aside this doom with its infernal glare. He turned his eyes to the fourth Inversion. He crawled, and then walked away, shaking the remnants of inevitability's mass from his soul.

The Fourth Inversion was his Life.

Like fifteen theatrical stages piled one on-top-of-the-other, moments from his life were actually _occurring_ inside the glass frame of this body. This was not a screen or a projection. It was real! Bruce was certain that if he were to enter through the thin, glass veil, he would be able to hug the eight-year old Bruce Wayne who lived inside.

Even scenes of his mother breastfeeding him as baby were happening inside this menagerie of experience, things he couldn't possibly remember! But that surely was _his_ mother and that _must_ have been him! Things he had seen, things he had done were now replayed… _happening _just before his very eyes.

And now Raven was casually walking towards him! He remembered that _exact_ moment, a picnic they had held in another dimension only four months ago! As he watched, his wife strolled unimpeded into the glass wall, only to disappear before she ever joined him on the other side - while another scene manifested upon that stage and their lovely picnic disappeared from view. Now it was Bruce sitting at his desk as a young man, studying while Alfred brought him tea… He had no doubt that if he were able to jump inside this Inversion, he could shake hands with a surprised sixteen-year old Bruce Wayne. It was _real_…

For the first time, Bruce realized that there had been _magic_ in his life. He had such influence over those around him, the ability to change his own Fate and their shared destiny. He was the director of his life...

He did not fear this Fourth Inversion… Instead, he found it to be more fascinating than anything else. Was it a _trap_? Would his life be warped and twisted, to be revealed as some nightmare prophecy as he sat and stared at the things he had seen and done?

This Inversion seemed to have no clear or wilful direction. _All_ parts of his life; good, bad and indifferent became re-enacted within its glass cell before his curious eyes. Even landscapes he had simply observed - with no action taking place except for the wind blowing through the poplar leaves of autumn – were displayed. These experiences weren't being _taken_ from him, only recreated, revealed from his lifetime. If he had lived a life of regret, this would have been much more difficult, but it was not. He only felt more alone...

Bruce walked to the Fifth Cross.

At first, he thought that perhaps one of the Inversions had _escaped_… Four enormous spikes still glowed with green energy and still remained in place, but they seemed to be holding _nothing_ to the massive Crucifix…

But he _felt_ it.

There _was_ something there, something unseen. Every emotion from his life suddenly coursed through him in one mighty wave until he collapsed to his knees, struggling for breath and a firm handhold of the ground. He _had_ to remain calm… Think, Bruce! Control it! Then slowly, the emotions subsided… or rather, they slowed to a pace he could bear as a man.

He felt things he should _not_ have felt… feelings that did not belong to him and _never_ had. Love, hate, fear, jealousy, lust, joy, and greed all ponderously cycled through him… A catalogue of emotion was being organized within his soul, making it impossible to tell exactly what he was feeling and what was now being manifested from this entity within him… And then, in a moment of electric epiphany, Bruce realized that _this_ was exactly how Raven felt!

As an empath, she must have continually rationalized what she _should_ be feeling versus her heart _was_ truly feeling. How could she know which emotions were truly her own? When she had first met him, she had sought privacy and distance to ensure that her emotions for Bruce were genuine… that she wasn't just reflecting his own feelings of desire for her. She needed time not only to understand him as a _person_, but also as an emotional presence. To become familiar with the currents and tides of his soul. With time, she knew her love for him had been her own...

Like a beacon from space, Bruce _felt_ Raven's love once more from across the Universe.

Somehow, he _knew_ that she was desperately searching for him… That Trigon had separated them against her will and that she was frantic to find her lost love. With everything he had and without hesitation, he cast the entirity of his emotions out to her across the void. A violet beam of love _burst_ forth from him and across the emerald sky - slicing across dimensions as profound joy filled his heart once more.

And then the floodgates opened. His emotional plea had opened his heart and now a Universe of emotion rushed backed in.

He felt _everything_.

The agony of Gods enslaved, the sacrifice of freedom, the hatred of sons scorned, the arrogance of stone. Around him, a symphony of invisible waves now flowed through him, resonating until he could no longer comprehend upon one single focus. There was no point of focus, no reference, there was _myriad_. Bruce became _everything_ unseen… thoughts, dreams, even the order of the Universe peeled itself open to allow him a glimpse of all the mysteries which he could never understand, but he _felt_ them!…

His ego faded in infinity as two arms embraced him from behind, slender and gentle and warm… A love _stronger_ than anything he had felt surrounded his dissipating identity.

"Shhh… my love. I am here now. I am with you."

Bruce shuddered, lost, struggling to remember _who_ he was. Raven became his anchor to reality, a familiar path in a Universe of invisibility to reclaim the identity that was Bruce Wayne. Breathless and shaking, he returned to her, embracing her desperately to make this omniscience of things unseen release its grasp upon him. She cradled his head and whispered softly into his ear…

"I _felt_ you, my love. Across the stars themselves, I felt your love reaching out to me…"

Raven moved her head backwards and stared deeply into his blue eyes, aglow with love. He hadn't realized, but they were now floating _above_ the ground. She had levitated him six feet off the surface of the planet while she brought him back.

"My love, do not be frightened. You are here with me. I will not let you go, now or ever. The ground itself is charged with power beyond my comprehension. It pulls upon me with a gravity of mystical proportion. I must manifest my demon-half in order to remain sane here. There is _far_ too much magic in this place for human-Raven to maintain control of my emotions while still denying the magical entity I truly am in such a world."

Bruce watched as his love's flesh changed from pink to crimson, indigo eyes altered to pale amber and luscious, red lips became black and dark. He hadn't realized it the first time he had seen her like this, but she was at least three inches _taller_ as a demon. The true daughter of Trigon held him now… but more importantly, his wife held him.

"By the Gods, that is _better_!… What strange place _is_ this, lover?" Her voice was smoky, a seductress draped across a piano at a midnight cabaret.

"Ysmault. Your father teleported me here, made some grandiose insults, and then left. To be honest, I expected _worse_..."

"You're alright, husband?"

"I'm fine now, thanks to you... just overwhelmed. But as an empath, this must be unbelievably _difficult_ for you. Whatever these things on the crosses are, they're incredibly powerful emotional broadcasters. It gave me a taste of what it's like to be you…"

"More than a taste, my love... I don't _frighten_ you like this?"

"Why would you? You're still Raven and my greatest friend. The only thing that frightens me is how much I _need_ you."

"And you are my greatest friend... who thinks I am beautiful, sexy and powerful. I can tell." She smiled at him.

"Always." How could he think otherwise?

Raven took Bruce tightly into her arms once more as she brought her lips _dangerously_ close to his own, running firm hands along the taut muscles of his back. He felt each supple inch of her body now pressing against his and sensed her lust flow through him like wildfire across August grasslands as she whispered into his ear…

"I'm feeling a little overwhelmed myself. Can I tell you a secret, my beautiful, sexy, powerful husband?..."

"Anything and anytime."

"These five Inversions… They're _not_ demons."

"I didn't think so…Are they Gods?"

"Close, my lover… they're Goddesses. Very old and _naughty_ Goddesses… They are demanding a ritual from us… They have discovered _what_ we are."

"Man and Wife?"

"_Lovers_." His crimson lady whsipered into his ear in a voice of smouldering, midnight promise.

"Oh? I… _Mmmmph_…"

Bruce ceased talking as his wife's lips electrified his own in an _explosion_ of sensation - her warm tongue probed into his mouth to entangle his own. Their fiery passions were now too deep, too strong to even contemplate resistance or acknowledge the cold hesitations of reason. Yet he knew he could _die_ perfectly happy like this, it may be a trap of dreams laid by the demons of Ysmault, but he would _still_ be fine…

This was his wife, one half of his own soul. And he was hers.

In the emerald skies above, their carnal love magically painted the heavens in hues of red and pink as contorted reflections of their physical passion reformed the rocky earth below them, rolling, undulating, primal - as it received the clothing that was quickly discarded from their now naked bodies.

Upon receipt, the land shuddered in an earthquake below them as he pushed inside her. Their uninhibited moans of ecstasy caught fire in the air as they moved within and around one another. Warm winds blew from all directions around them, coaxing the burning fires of their desire, engulfing the coiled lovers in the lustful whispers of Goddesses.

Secret, forgotten acts of intimacy soon manifested in the air, like shameless phantasms of forgotten times, an orgy of lustful celebrations from centuries before humanity even knew of the stars. Pagan rights of procreation reborn. Four flowing strands of red, green, blue and yellow spun and coiled, interweaving into a pattern of four children who playfully circled and danced hand-in-hand around the two lovers.

The hot tide of passion raged and swelled to become a towering tsunami of pleasure, no emotion left behind. Each nerve became a new sensation, a discovered country of emotion, waiting for final release into the newly created Universe between them.

They eagerly filled the holes that tragedy had rend into their ravaged souls. Their physical passion stitched their beleaguered spirits, frantically sewing enough of their shattered lives to make one _perfect_ union of a soul. Floating in the air, he ravaged her and she ravaged him, taking what was needed, providing what was desired, as the fires grew wilder in their ritual of lust, the darkness removed. They rolled, they tumbled, they stood, they straddled, they embraced upon the blowing winds.

In her demon form, Raven was _strong_… strong enough to match Bruce's own physical dominance and intensity, her powerful legs locked in an unbreakable hold around him, forcing her man to thrust as deep as he was able - while her dark nails dug into his broad back drawing blood before she _finally_ relented - the pleasure of the sudden release of a lifetime of tension and emotional suppresion let go in one shattering explosion of joy.

Raven's banshee-wail of pleasure brought down Bruce's faltering dam of resistance, unable to hold back any longer... He released into her with a mind-numbing ecstasy beyond _anything_ he had ever experienced, only to feel her own wave of ecstasy recoil _back_ into him, drowning his numbed senses within an ocean of new sensory bliss.

This was as primal, as raw, as passionate as a man and woman had ever been. They were renewed, reborn, enraptured and perfectly spent in the arms of one another. Their act of love was a victory against Oblivion. These were the rights of the Goddess – an offering of creation, of passion, desire, lust and love… Emotion triumphant in the void.

It took moments for their own senses to return from the stratosphere of pleasure.

With a smile, Raven ran a cerise-colored hand along the hair on Bruce's chest…

"I've never felt such magic..."

"Dear God... That was the most incredible sex…" Raven giggled before he could continue. Bruce could never tell if she were blushing while in her demon form.

"With you, never have I felt such _pleasure_, my love. Though there is something _truly_ magical about us... I believe it was these five Goddesses who filled the air and land with the sensual powers of magic to celebrate our courtship. They are well pleased."

Bruce found the strength to prop himself up and grinned at his half-demon wife. He wasn't sure what magic _was_ exactly, but he had never experienced a power – or emotions - like _that_. Still trembling from their airborne dance of desire, he turned to survey the five Inversions with a new perspective.

"These are Goddesses of Magic?"

"Bruce… That's _exactly_ what they are! Being so close, I did not realize… but these are the Old _and_ New Goddesses of Magic! I can _feel_ it!... To think they exist here on barren Ysmault!... But _why_?!"

"I'm not sure, Raven…" Bruce drew a heavy sigh. "But I believe it has _everything_ to do with the Guardians and the Green Lantern Corps. That's their insignia on the spikes that are driven through them. These Goddesses seem to be… _prisoners_."

"That's unforgivable! These Goddesses are not evil! They are only divine powers of the Universe…"

"Maybe that's _why_ they're here, Raven..."

"Because they are powerful?"

"I can think of two reasons… One is that although Green Lanterns are themselves extremely powerful, but even they wouldn't be able to overcome this level of _divine_ magic. They may have created this place as a safeguard against such powerful magic manifesting itself, limiting its strongest arcane influence in the Universe to a mere fraction of what it _could_ be, something they would be able to control and prevail against."

"Fear does not give them the right to do _this_! This was an act of enslavement!... But what is your second reason?"

"Personally, this one scares the Hell out of me, Raven… but I think you're right. This _is_ an act of enslavement. Honestly, I don't know much about the Green Lantern Corps… They've had very limited exposure on Earth, but from what I can understand, they are based on a planet called Oa which has a gigantic, Central Power Battery. It's similar to the one Ganthet presented to Barbara but much, _much_ larger. This is the source of the Green Lanterns' power that they tap into - using their own power batteries, rings and minds.

But where does _that_ power come from? What energy recharges the Central Power Battery? Think of it… Thousands of rings throughout the Universe worn on the appendages of its emerald champions must drain its power every single day. They create _fantastical_ constructs of solid green energy out of seemingly nothing - or even beams of immense power as Barbara did – simply by focusing the power of their will through their ring. This energy source must be _unbelievably_ powerful, able to travel light-years through space in the span of a simple oath…

And _all_ batteries have to be charged, even Central Power Batteries. So where do the Guardians gather that _kind_ of power - the energy required to bend reality _itself_ to the ring-wielder's thoughts? Are they able to siphon this power from space somehow? A Cosmic Collector? Converted solar energy?... Everything inside me doesn't want to say this, but I think that power comes from _here_, Raven. That they're harnessing and using the _magic_ of these Goddesses to power their rings…"

"But the Green Lanterns fight _evil_, Bruce. What you believe the Guardians have _done_ here… To desecrate these Goddesses in such a vile manner… It's inconceivable."

A dark tear welled in Raven's eye, falling down a soft, crimson cheek – the full emotional weight of Bruce's explanation threatened to make her ill. If true, this was an atrocity beyond any possible redemption. The Guardians had placed themselves _above_ the Gods, to use them as beasts of burden! She knew her husband had a suspicious mind tempered by the hard anvil of personal tragedy. He was constantly searching for _all_ of the powers lurking in darkness that others were content to call shadows. Had he speculated too far?...

A stranger's voice from the distance answered her.

"What the mortal has declared is true, half-God. Do not let emotions cloud reason."

This distinctly _male_ voice came from the _sixth_ Inversion, a figure who was kept beyond the others, separated by distance from the Five Goddesses. Unlike the other captives, this final God appeared well-defined. But like the others, he was a figure of titanic proportions, although his substance was undeniably _real_.

Grasping the hand of her still-naked husband, Raven levitated them higher and flew towards the voice of the sixth deity, stopping as they hovered two hundred feet above the planet's surface – staring at large, pale, blue eyes. Bruce and Raven were no taller than this God's palm.

The last captive was dressed in the fashion of a New God, a form-fitting outfit of dark blue with accents of white which covered all of him _but_ his pale face. Peering below, Bruce had spied a strange pattern of interconnected lines and circles that formed a _circuit-like_ symbol upon his chest. No pain troubled the brow of this God, nor did his eyes shine with malice or appear dull with woe. He simply observed the two lovers approach in careful study and waited for them to speak.

"Who are you?" Raven inquired of the calm colossus.

"First, I must know who _you_ are. I will not be held at a disadvantage regarding such information."

Raven's head cocked backwards, taken aback by the God's strange rebuttal. Bruce answered in her stead before she launched her second question.

"I am Bruce Wayne, of Earth. This is my wife, Raven Wayne…"

"Are you _even_ a New God?"

Raven eyed the stranger apprehensively. There was something _different_ about this God from the other deities she had encountered in New Genesis or on Ysmault… His emotions were impossible to fathom. It was _almost_ as though he possessed none.

"I have no links with the Old Gods – or New. I am something different... And yet, like a wise fool, here I am among the most tragic of my brethren."

"But _who_ are you?" demanded Raven once again.

The naked Raven cast a flame-like crimson reflection in the omniscient, pastel-blue eyes of this crucified God, cruelly pinned by spikes of the Green Lantern Corps. He answered her openly...

"I am Metron."


	121. Chapter 121

**CXXI  
Metron**

Raven peered searchingly into the enormous, emotionless eyes of the God before her… _Metron._ In this primal world surging with arcane power, the very presence of this last New God was _strangest _of all. There was no sign of emotion.

Metron was so remarkably different from the first five celestial beings who radiated overwhelming magical and emotional power – so much that it could be felt within every single speck of dust blowing across this planet's wastelands. In contrast, Metron radiated _nothing_… he was the eye in this almighty magical storm.

She wondered if they could _trust_ this sixth God imprisoned on Ysmault. She had no way to tell if he were lying, her ability to read emotions was useless with him. She had no idea if he would even answer their questions - but still, there was a chance of getting information about the tragedies that had taken place on Ysmault, and that was information they desperately needed.

Trigon had opened the door to reveal that it wasn't only the Earth that was in peril… it was the very Universe itself! She needed to understand the forces that were at work in this Galactic power play – _including_ the Guardians of the Universe and the Green Lantern Corps. Could they even trust the Guardians?!

Raven was certain this New God was not a magical being, which meant the Guardians wanted him here for other reasons. He was an anomaly, but he may be able to shed some light on these events. He looked _very_ perceptive. Metron had instantly identified her as a half-God, something it had taken Raven her _entire_ life to figure out…

Since she had been a child, Raven had been constantly indoctrinated that the powerful thing inside her was _demonic_, that she housed an eternal soul of evil, the castoff spawn of Trigon, waiting to emerge. In a world whose darkness had been shorn and discarded, she had been forced to live as half-a-person to become accepted.

But Raven was _not_ a half-Demon.

She was Raven. And born of a New God.

Raven had even come to learn that even her father had not been born inherently evil. He had been _made_ evil. It had taken the betrayal of his power-mad brother Darkseid, the Infinity Pit, and the darkest halves of one thousand Azarathian souls to make the ambitious Drax transform into the monstrous God of Revenge, Trigon. By denying one-half of her soul, Raven had followed that same dark path, driving her own divinity to become monstrous as well - when all it had wanted was to be _free_.

Since the time of her mother's untimely death, Raven had been trying to make peace within her own soul. As Bruce had resisted her father's temptations in the weave of Fate, Raven had brokered another, more private deal… Human-Raven had rationally discussed her thoughts and desires with Dark-Raven… Though to be honest, it had actually started as a screaming match, with a lot of finger pointing on _either_ side.

It was when Human-Raven beheld the bitter tears that she had caused Dark-Raven to cry that Human-Raven reached out and embraced her other half. They realized that they were two halves of a whole.

Her God-self had been so _desperate_ for her father, longing for the freedom his arrival would bring since the time of her birth, a life-long prisoner of her own humanity. She had longed for Trigon's acceptance and the rewards he had promised her.

When Darkseid had presented another opportunity to be free, her dark side had wanted it so _badly_, to be a prisoner no more - that she had caused them great suffering. She had never meant for Arella to die… because Arella was her mother _as well._ Both sides had been devastated by her loss.

So they had made a truce… Human-Raven would embrace her divine heritage and _all_ her natural emotions. She would live as the emotional woman she was meant to be - without the ingrained fear of expressing herself. The only Hell she could now release upon the world was her own. Her father had found his _own_ murderous path to Earth - so there were no further reasons to restrict her feelings on his account. They would live and feel as one.

And now Trigon had _plans_ for his daughter… plans that neither Human-Raven nor God-Raven cared for. Their father wanted to take Bruce away and make her follow in his ashen footsteps, a destroyer of worlds. Neither side would permit that to happen – they both loved Bruce _deeply_… for their own, different reasons. They would build their _own_ destiny with the man they had chosen and loved.

So Raven had consented to become the scarlet Goddess when it was safe to do so. She would not jeopardize the people she loved, but she would not be ashamed of who she was or how she appeared either. _After all_, _Bruce didn't seem to mind…_

And now there were things she needed to know…

"What are the names of these Goddesses, Metron?" asked Raven of the Colossus.

"They have countless names in countless cultures. They will not harm you if you go to them and ask, child. I sense they are eager to know of you."

Raven had felt it too.

With all five Goddesses, she had felt their strong pull upon her, that these entities had sensed her divine heritage, a lost daughter who had finally found her way home to her missing family. Her mother had often told a younger Raven that she had _great_ potential and affinity for magic, yet in her past life she feared to wield it… afraid she may lose control of her emotions and become a beacon to her father.

"Please Metron… Our time may be cut short. I will reach out to these Goddesses but we need to know what the Guardians will do. Will they help us? Can we trust them? Will they be able to stop my father, Trigon?"

"If you but free me, I could take the two of you across time and space in my Mobius chair - and show you _all_ the secrets of what has transpired, each knot of Fate would become revealed as it unfolded, without the concerns of impetuous time… Do you have the power to do such a thing?"

Raven flew closer with Bruce in tow and placed her hand upon the forehead of the captive God, so that Metron could sense her profound sorrow and pain at his imprisonment and her inability to free him.

"… I don't think we can, Metron. I'm so sorry. I would free _all_ of you if I could."

"In time, you shall… "Metron allowed the faintest hint of a smile to crease his mouth. "I have come to believe that the Guardians seek to eliminate _all_ Gods in time. This is the most logical course of action…"

Metron paused and gazed upon the sudden, horrified look that appeared on Raven's face.

"They do this _not_ as an act of evil, young one, but rather as a measure of self-preservation. Believe me when I say the Maltusians, the blue-skinned Guardians you speak of, have suffered terribly at the hands of the Gods themselves. At a great cost, they have appointed their kind, the oldest race in the Universe, as the supreme Guardians of peace and order. They simply seek to remove the most powerful, erratic variants from our shared scope of existence so that they may achieve these goals."

"By _murdering_ the Gods?!"

"In a sense… _yes_. Think of it as evolution, Raven. The Fifth World shall belong to the Maltusians. After all, could they not be considered as the Gods of Order and Reason? Truly, they should have called me brother..." Metron sighed as Bruce broke in.

"Then why _are_ you here, Metron? Are you an enemy of the Corps? You seem sympathetic to their cause - yet you are their prisoner." Bruce struggled to understand what had brought this powerful voice of reason to such an unreasonable, tragic place.

"I am an enemy of no one Bruce Wayne, save perhaps ignorance. I am only a seeker of Knowledge, a being who must understand _all_ that is to be comprehended. But first let me ask why _you_ were brought here, man of Earth? It seems as though you were meant to be a prisoner as much as I… although I do not believe it was the Guardians who brought you to this place."

"That's a long story, Metron…"

"For one such as myself, those are the best kind. I am eternally curious."

"This wonderful lady, currently holding my life in her hand, is my wife Raven. You were correct when you called her a half-God; she is the daughter of the God of Revenge and a mortal woman from Earth, Angela Roth. Suffice it to say, her father, Trigon the Terrible is not happy with our marriage. He brought me here to die."

"I know of no God of Revenge."

"…You would have known him as Drax," added Raven. "He took the name of Trigon after taking up the mantle of the God of Revenge - floating through space for millennia, betrayed at the hands of his brother, Uxas."

"Ah, it becomes _clearer_… that the foul harvest of Darkseid and his countless treacheries have borne such seeds of bitter consequence is perfectly logical. I am familiar with the tale of Uxas and Drax at the Infinity Pit. Actions often have such unforeseen consequences. But this is the way of the Universe, as I have learned once again…"

"I take it _your_ actions had consequences, Metron? Is that how you came to be a prisoner of Ysmault?"

"Indeed, it was even I who furnished my own prison, however unintentional... But do not call this planet _Ysmault_. During my countless eons of existence, I have little patience remaining for crude-fashioned lies and deceits such as this.

The name _Ysmault_ is nothing more than a play-on-words used by the Maltusians to deceive the Universe. A frightening, fictional planet they fabricated, the final resting place of the so-called 'Five Inversions' – the last indomitable remnants of Sector 666, 'demons' of tremendous power who were beyond death. _Ysmault_ is a world they have forbidden to all other life forms, a fictional tragedy to cover its _true_ tragedy…"

"Then what _should_ we call this planet, Metron?"

"By its _true_ name, of course… Maltus."

_"Maltus… _Wait, this planet is the home world of the Guardians?!"

"It is. Or rather it _was_. Ten billion years ago, shining Maltus was the first planet in the Universe to give birth to sentient life, life even older than the Gods themselves. Just think, for billions of years, blue-skinned Maltusians have walked these very shores and began an epic history that continues even to this day…"

"But _why_ are you here, Metron?"

"Certainly I _could_ proclaim that I am here because I knew too much… that the one who bears the secrets of the Guardians' _true_ power must be forever silenced. But I will not...

Perhaps Metron hangs upon this cross as an eternal testament for his blind actions which have invoked the wrath of the _Inversion_ who rests upon the third cross, the thing of the threads of Fate…

Or perhaps the Guardians wish to ensure the gifts I have bestowed upon them are never gifted to another. It is the mystery which is my _true_ punishment… Not knowing the _exact_ reason of my sentence makes my incarceration _far_ worse, noble daughter of Revenge.

Let us simply say I hang here to pay for my own sins… You see, it was I who allowed the Maltusians to capture every single one of these Goddesses. It was clever Metron who built and provided the very Power-Transmitters that now hold him cruelly upon his captors' cross. And it was I who designed and constructed their first Rings of Power – allowing the Green Lantern Corps to be born."

"You… _made_ the Power Rings?!" Bruce was incredulous.

"In the hastened pursuit of knowledge, far too often we lose sight of the winding path we tread. Or the times when we choose to _stray_ from it - to travel alongside those whom we deem as our peers. Since the dawn of their immortal life, Metron has lived alongside - and been a friend to these Maltusians, fellow seekers of the truth and disciplines of logic.

Metron seeks knowledge for the sake of knowledge, but I now believe the immortals of Maltus sought knowledge for different objectives. But do not judge them too harshly; their reasons are bound by the straight course of logic. As I have mentioned before, the Maltusians suffered terribly at the hands of Gods…

Eons ago, while the cataclysmic battle of Ragnarök closed its sorrowful jaws upon the Sun of the Third World, the multiple armies of the sentient machines constructed over a million years here on Maltus, fought to preserve their masters' vision of life.

Before the Green Lantern Corps, the Guardians had created the relentless Manhunters, the self-aware, artificially-intelligent robots that had been tasked with keeping their Universe safe. At their peak, the Manhunters numbered in the billions, spread throughout the living cosmos.

However, it was this same protective programming which caused the deadly Manhunters to fight the Gods _themselves_ – identifying the final cataclysmic battle as a supreme threat to the continued existence of mortal life. And battle they did…

The first two Goddesses you see hanging upon crosses were among the few survivors from the last days of the Third World. Ragnarök and the Manhunters had extracted a crippling toll upon the last world of the Gods. In their divine wrath, these two Goddesses appeared on Maltus to take revenge upon the blue Maltusians _and_ their deadly constructs that had destroyed their pantheon.

Billions of innocent lives were lost to indiscriminate, vengeful magic as the Maltusian elders begged for Metron's assistance to save their ravaged world. The last tide of Ragnarök had come to their blue shores and their own immortality was in great peril. They had angered the Gods.

I hastily constructed the Power Transmitters to save my comrades, if only to preserve the knowledge we had gathered… but this world was undone by the time the Goddesses were finally subdued. Reduced from billions to a single battalion, the Manhunters were obliterated in the defense of their creators against the greatest primeval powers arcane. Sadly, this first world of sentient life, magnificent Maltus was _lost_… but the Maltusians survived, though only a few thousand had lived to see the sun break upon that day.

And so a plan was made.

The time of Ragnarök had finally passed, leaving the decimated Guardians with the proclamation that they could never let the unorthodox and calamitous powers of Magic proliferate in this Universe they had sworn to protect. And so the third Goddess was captured to allow these Maltusians to move _outside_ of the confines of Fate – so that _nothing_ was inevitable for them.

Gods were never meant to be enslaved as they had dared, but still they had devised a way to do it. I see now that the Guardians had _much_ farther-reaching plans when this third deity was added to their crucifixes on dead Maltus. This Goddess is among the oldest of our kind…

With the first three deities now in place, the Power Rings were created and the Green Lantern Corps born. A force to protect life in the Universe, and to preserve the most sacred and precious of all Maltusian values… _order_. A value once favored by foolish Metron as well.

Do you know that the fourth and fifth Goddesses are among your brethren, Raven Wayne? You may name them cousins. They are the fourth-generation of Gods ruling Magic born to the eldest New Gods… the twin sisters; Zareah of New Genesis and Abraxas of Apokolips. Goddesses of the _Seen_ and the _Unseen_… one born in light, the other in darkness, both bartered to the Maltusians as part of the Paix Arcana…"

"… The Paix Arcana?"

"That the Guardians will not interfere with affairs of the New Gods unless threatened directly. Even these New Gods were painfully aware of the role the Guardians played in Ragnarök. The New Gods do not wish to hold sway over the affairs of mortals. In exchange, these daughters of magic were relinquished to the Guardians' care."

"That's _awful_…"

"Sacrifices are necessary for peace. Who could say _how_ the virulent history of New Genesis and Apokolips may have played out had the two worlds had access to the powers of both magic _and_ technology? Perhaps the Universe has been made better by its omission?..."

"Perhaps it has been made _worse_," countered Bruce. "Why did you construct the Power Rings, Metron? Wouldn't it have been easier to let the surviving Maltusians just carry on with humbler beginnings?"

"Machines such as the Manhunters are easily manipulated and tend to fall into the wrong hands _far_ too often - leading to a destructive unbalance of power. With these Manhunters, a single, mad intelligence could guide the Universe to Armageddon. After Ragnarök there was a tremendous fear within the hearts of Maltusians - after they had lost so many of their own. There was little doubt in my mind they would rebuild their mechanical armies in time…

So Metron constructed a weapon that requires the sentient willpower of _one_ user - combined with the ability to overcome fear – so I could ensure an army of _individuals_, not deadly machines, each capable of independent judgment and rational thought.

As a final safeguard, I added the Central Power Battery on Oa, so that the Guardians could cease the flow of power to those they deemed unworthy or dangerous. While they had realized that magic will never be destroyed, they relented that it could be harnessed and controlled by an equal measure of will."

"And for all this, they string you up here. With friends like _those_…"

Bruce could not help but identify with this God. After all, Bruce had also built numerous weapons to maintain peace and order, _without_ the safeguards Metron had put in place.

"Metron has no friends, mortal… Rest assured, it is as it should be."

"Noble Metron…" spoke Raven "You have answered all questions that we have asked. Though you claim it not to be so, this is the act of a friend. I will not forget your kindness, or your divine piety not to cast blame on those who would forsake you."

"I know you shall not, child of Magic. Go to them now… Appease their new-found curiosity regarding your appearance before they also stumble upon the wonders of reason."

"Thank you, Metron." Raven kissed the giant God on his forehead before carefully flying down to the ground, landing with Bruce in front of Metron's enormous cross.

"It's safer if you stay here, my love."

"Will _you_ be alright, Raven? These Goddesses have _incredibly_ powerful auras… especially that fifth one." Bruce had _almost_ made it through the gauntlet unscathed. He hadn't been ready for the level of sensory overload the Fifth Inversion had shocked him with. How would an empath feel?

"She is _Abraxas_… And yes, I believe I shall be fine, lover. After all, I have _you_ to save me."

As their gazes locked in eyes of love once more, she kissed him for luck before she flew across to the first Goddess.


	122. Chapter 122

**CXXII  
The Five Inversions, Part One**

Bruce Wayne watched from the ground below as his wife flew into the distance, to visit the first of the Inversions, to the dance of light and shadow with the strong, gravitational pull that had amazed him with its shining splendor. It wasn't this Goddess he was worried about…

Back on his feet again, he felt uncomfortable standing on rocks barefoot and naked. He had grown _far_ too accustomed to custom-made Italian leather shoes. Bruce decided his best course of action was to _carefully_ walk over to the place where they had hastily abandoned their clothes as they had indulged in one another.

In the distance, he could just make out Raven… 'conversing' with the first Goddess. If he was going to be _any_ use to her, he would at least need his shoes back on. This wasn't the type of terrain you could run across in bare feet - thousands of sharp, edged rocks jutted from the landscape amidst blowing sands.

After a careful stroll, he slipped his dusty clothes and shoes back on, and realized he felt _tired_. So much had happened to them so quickly… His world had been turned upside down and _now_, standing upon the planet where sentient life had first been born, it all seemed so far away. Even more, there was a mental weariness that constantly wore upon him – this place could snap your perception of reality in an instance _if_ you let it.

Perhaps Trigon may not have known what the Inversions truly were, but he knew that Bruce would not have lasted long here. Without Raven's intervention, he shivered to think what would have happened to his mind with the fifth Goddess. He gathered Raven's items as well. Although he enjoyed the sight of his wife naked in _whichever_ color she chose to appear, there was no telling when they might be suddenly popped into another place… He reminded himself to bring a backpack for all the teleportation they had done lately.

As soon as he finished dressing, the Acting President felt the familiar, firm grip of the white-gloved hand upon his shoulder once more. Without even turning around - or displaying a hint of surprise - Bruce heaved a sigh and addressed the Stranger behind him.

"It was nice of you to wait _until_ I got dressed. People would start to wonder…"

"The robes of human flesh do not concern me, Bruce Wayne – only the soul that dwells within." And yet, the Phantom Stranger had _still_ not removed his hand from his shoulder.

"Then quit staring at my wife."

"I… _Ahem_… I have come to warn you of forces that are conspiring even now to extinguish all known existence. The Great Beast engages the Darkness."

"Uh yeah… Did you _know_ about this place, Stranger?"

"I had heard the legends, but I did not know the truth… until now. Order may never be absolute, else it becomes tyranny. What has been done here, even in the name of order, is _wrong_. Gods will not be made into slaves. The price is too high."

"So what do you plan to do about it?"

"I will do nothing. There is another who shall call these names at the time of the second coming. Existence _itself_ shall hang upon a single word which shall invoke the power of Gods to tip the scales towards order or chaos, life or death."

"You talk in metaphor _a lot_... Do you realize that? Anyways, while we're waiting, maybe you could help me figure something out…. I'm wondering why Trigon didn't just _kill_ me after I attacked him. I broke the covenant barrier between myself and the God of Revenge. I gave him the license to use his full power on me… So why did he send me here unharmed?"

"Because to kill you would also mean his daughter's demise, Bruce Wayne. Your destinies are now as one. When Raven entered into the pact with her father, she was gifted the use the Silver Needle of Fate to draw her own blood. She wove her Fate to your own thread by blood magic. By overcoming the three temptations of Trigon, your threads have now become irrevocably entwined. There is no force in existence that can keep you apart, in life or in death…"

"She… That's… really _comforting_ actually."

"Too many metaphors?..."

"No, that was fine… Nice job. So what are these forces you spoke of conspiring to extinguish all existence and the Great Beast in the Darkness and all that?"

"You were never meant to be Raven's intended."

"So I've been told. But, here we are, man and wife."

"On the day she was born, her father promised her to another. When twenty-one years had passed, she was to be delivered to him, and their contract finally sealed, a Fate worse than _any_ that ever could be imagined, Bruce Wayne."

"But Raven was exiled from Azarath on the eve of her twenty-first birthday…"

"Yes… In her own way, I believe Azar acted to _protect_ Raven. I cannot say the degree of familiarity the matriarch possessed regarding this horrific matter of matrimony, but the suspicious timing of Raven's exile does beg the question.

But whether by design or providence, Azar banished Raven to your world in the proverbial nick of time, well aware that faith and love had placed a _very_ strong soul barrier around it, protecting the Earth from such things as Trigon… _and_ her betrothed."

"But who is this other suitor, Stranger?! W_ho_ is it that Raven was promised to?..."

"Trigon's recent actions have drawn me towards a conclusion I had feared to _allow_ myself to admit… But the Great Beast has shown there exists no path he dare not tread, no darkness he will not embrace."

"_And_?..."

"It is Nekron. Lord of the Unliving…. I am _sorry_, Bruce Wayne."

* * *

With the revelations of Metron now known to her, and Bruce back safely on the ground, Raven Wayne flew across the sky to the first Inversion. She wasn't normally such a confident flyer, but the magic in this place made it incredibly easy. She had never realized that her ability to levitate was magic-based, but it _was_.

As she approached her destination, she beheld a being of alternating light and darkness - affixed to the cruel cross of the Guardians. This first Goddess had an incredibly strong _pull_ upon her body, like waves of gravitational force ebbing and flowing, drawing upon her in sporadic _tugs_.

Raven allowed herself to be pulled towards the Goddess, as if she were being carried upon an invisible tide. In her heart she felt… _love_? Mysterious currents pulled her closer as a chorus of harmonious female voices exalted her arrival in the air around them, peaking in beautiful crescendos to match her journey on these strange waves.

The Goddess took form.

A _beautiful_ woman composed of nothing more than moonlight with long, flowing hair of silvery gossamer. Her long, ethereal hair concealed her eyes, hidden in the shadows of moon beams, but did not conceal her inviting smile. There was something incredibly _sensuous_ about her… mysterious. Her beguiling smile showed a secret that you _longed_ to know… a secret that was waiting _just_ for you.

Raven _knew_ who this was!

"Selene…"

Whatever celestial mysteries she chose to drape herself in, Raven knew beyond _any_ shadow of doubt that this was the Goddess of the Moon, the Mistress of Secrets… Selene. The Goddess's smile broadened as Raven spoke her name - an ocean of pure love washed over her –flowing across the invisible waves from the captive Goddess. A lost daughter, now found.

Raven placed a gentle hand upon the silvery cheek of the Goddess of Moonlight and Mystery. She spoke her silent respects before traveling to the second Goddess.

"I will find the way… _somehow_."

As Raven continued her journey, she soon understood that the second Goddess was _power_. Not _just_ the power that filled the air and land around, but also the power within her, making her feel _amazingly_ strong in her spirit, reassured by everything. It was at her beck and call. There was magic here, beyond any she had known before…

As Raven approached the second deity, the Inversion suddenly came into focus and took a single form... a _familiar_ woman, with curly, black hair… just like her mother's, surrounded by three torches that floated around her. Her soft features were revealed only by the torchlight so that no other light could reach her but her own. Raven suppressed a gasp and stopped for a moment when she beheld the entirety of the Goddess… a two-hundred-foot tall Arella.

Her mother was _known_ to this Goddess.

Under the Goddess's pale skin, Raven watched what appeared to be massive dark _serpents_… coiling and flowing, weaving strange patterns just under her pallid flesh, traveling from her extremities towards her middle until they formed a massive, entwined ball of vibrating darkness.

This deity did not project emotions. Raven was not awash with feelings as she had been with Selene… instead she felt its sway _within_ her. It was as if she had become the Goddess. If Raven were to choose a direction, a path, she would be granted power beyond her wildest dreams. She need only embrace her own abilities and the Goddess would worship _her_. It was an incredibly empowering and strange sensation…

"Hecate."

It had surprised Raven when she spoke the name... Hecate, the Goddess of Magic, Witches and Crossroads seemed _different_ than her classical description, but then again, she could have chosen to appear as _anything_. She could be maiden, mother or crone. In this aspect, she had chosen mother, taking on the appearance of her _own_ mother.

Of course! As a practitioner of magic, Hecate would have known who her mother was… the mother she still held within her. Raven watched as the figure on the crucifix changed, now transforming into a giant Azar.

"I will believe in myself, Goddess." With the wise face of Azar, Hecate smiled at her as Raven smiled confidently back, taking her leave.

The third Goddess was an infinity of thread…

More threads than Raven could ever _hope_ to count. _Billions_ of threads… Spinning and writhing to form a galaxy of shifting lines and patterns before her wondrous, amber eyes. As the crimson demigod approached closer, these infinite strands of color seemed to stitch and weave themselves into a massive, two-dimensional wall before her, creating a spectacular tapestry of _enormous_ dimensions…

Within seconds, she witnessed the completed masterwork – a fabricated image stitched over three hundred feet high and one hundred and fifty feet wide; its bottom hovering just above the ground. It was as though she were suddenly facing a tapestry as big as a football field, forcing her to pause, looking up-and-down, side-to-side, just to take it all in.

(Even as large as it was, a billion loose ends still coiled and writhed behind the veil, out of her sight.)

She marveled at the final, entwined image; an elder, winged woman, proudly holding a staff. But this was not a _static_ image. The image was being consistently rewoven to simulate _movement_… Patterns were re-stitched to create shifting shadows upon the immense weave.

Raven gazed as embroidered eyes followed her own while massive, stitched wings fluttered in the breeze. Twin serpents coiled themselves around her staff of fabric, continually slithering upwards, their scales shimmering in a thousand colors of shifting thread.

The woman in the weave was re-sewn, so that her hand was now remade. The index finger on the image's right hand became _raised_, so that it was now revealed to Raven to appear as if the Goddess had _stretched_ out her finger towards her. The daughter of Trigon suddenly peered at her _own_ index finger, which still bore the small pinprick where she had pierced it with Verdandi's silver needle, only brief hours before. To save the Earth, she has made a binding pact with the Fates themselves…

And to her eternal salvation, it had been a gamble Bruce had _won_.

Flying forwards, Raven extended her own index finger, placing it upon the proffered fingertip of the Goddess. The instant she touched this strange fabric, an electric wave of love and excitement _blasted_ through her, making her suddenly retract her own finger hastily away. She had _never_ felt emotion like this, unbelievably powerful…

Raven watched as a smaller image was now being woven into the fabric in front of her, next to the hand of the Goddess where she had touched. She recognized the newly fabricated figure as the kind Norn who had offered her the use the silver Needle of Fate… _Verdandi_.

"Yes… it was Verdandi who allowed me to use her Needle and make this pinprick."

The background of the tapestry instantly changed to pure sunshine, almost blinding her… it was as though the Source _itself_ had now replaced the weave outside the Goddess. Raven glided backwards, shielding her eyes from the immense radiance as her vision slowly recovered.

She now beheld the Goddess as a younger woman holding three infant daughters… all nestled snugly into her cradling arms. Large wings shielded the three sleeping infants from the glaring light of the Source shining in the weave behind her, as the triplets slumbered peacefully in her arms.

"You're their… _mother_?"

Raven had to think about this for a moment… Metron had told them that the imprisonment of the third Goddess had allowed the Maltusians to move _outside_ of the confines of Fate, so that _nothing_ was inevitable for them. The sixth God had also called her one of the _oldest_ Gods… And now she had shown herself to be the mother of the Fates themselves… The Mother of Fate… The compelling will of the Universe…

"Ananke!"

Merciful Mother! The Maltusians had _no_ idea of the consequences they had ventured… They were attempting to supplant the divine will of the Universe with their own! With her mouth agape in shock, Raven addressed the Mother of Fate.

"It _will_ be set right, Goddess. I promise you..."

A sewn smile spread across the lips of the third Goddess, as one billion threads once again unraveled from below, the tapestry dispersing back into the coiling strands of Fate itself, yet still captured upon the cross. Metron had spoken true… the blue-skinned Guardians had placed themselves _above_ the Gods.

How could she forgive them? Although the Maltusians had suffered a great tragedy under the last of the Old Gods, that could _never_ justify what they had done here. Enslavement was nothing more than a tyrant's mortgage, paid with the interest of revenge. And none were more tragic than the remaining two Goddesses...


	123. Chapter 123

**CXXIII  
The Five Inversions, Part Two**

As Raven gracefully flew towards the next enslaved Goddess, she wondered if Zareah and Abraxas had ever known _freedom_… Or had they been dutifully ripped from their tear-stained mother's arms to become crucified under the stakes of the Paix Arcana as babes?! Could it be that this really the only life her 'cousins' had ever truly known?

Approaching Zareah with sorrow in her heart, her sadness was suddenly replaced by shock and fear when she spied her. The dark image revealed within this transparent Goddess absolutely _chilled_ her.

A foreboding _skeletal_ man… clothed in mists of darkness that drifted through his bones, stood atop a mountain of the rotting dead as their apparent lord and emperor. Raven repeated to herself that this was only a _scene_ within the Goddess – a revealed image of some creature from Hell - but still it _terrified_ her. This emaciated figure was _truly_ frightening and grotesque, a creature of bizarre nightmares…

And then she saw the skeletal creature hold something in its bony fingers… raising that claw _towards_ her… grasping a black ring… that it was _offering_… to _her_?!

"Why do you show me _this_?!" Raven's fear was manifest. She just wanted the damned image to stop.

Upon her wish, the giant image of death disappeared; replaced by a memory she knew well…One that _pleased_ her as much as the first had horrified her. It was her Wedding day with Bruce, on the back lawn of the Manor with Dick in full military attire and Alfred dressed in a tuxedo, to witness their sacred ceremony of love. The sunshine of that day shone brightly, revealing even the delicate outlines of the crystal body of Zareah - spilling rainbows of color _through_ her like a prism.

"That was my Wedding day… Are you trying to tell me something, Zareah?"

Raven watched as the skeletal hand holding the black ring now reappeared next to Bruce's hand holding the golden ring he had placed on her finger, the very ring she still proudly wore… as Trigon appeared standing next to the Undead lord.

"You're trying to tell me this is my father's work… A Marriage… Are you saying he wants me to marry that… _thing_?!"

These images then faded away, leaving only the Goddess's translucent form of glass. Her shape was… beautiful. Long crystal hair flowed behind her as visible, delicate curves revealed Zareah to be as naked as Raven. The demigod watched as her divine relation nodded her head up and down in reaffirmation to her shocked question. Her despicable father _had_ planned to marry her off to that nightmare! She was to be the bride of Death itself!

A new scene was created within this Goddess of crystal… her despicable father once again, this time murdering a strange, alien creature dressed in the outfit of the Green Lantern Corps, using only his bare hands. She shuddered at his unmerciful brutality as the poor alien struggled in vain… eventually falling in a broken lump before Trigon the Terrible. Another scene then replaced this one, but the premise remained the same. Her father had vaporized a Green Lantern alien with the Omega Beams from his eyes. Raven watched in horror as alien bones disintegrated in crimson beams.

"Trigon has broken the Paix Arcana?"

Another scene unfolded, another world revealed, another Green Lantern died at the cruel hands of Trigon. And then again... and yet again, faster each time… until Zareah became a murderous blur of red and emerald - the result remaining the same each time.

Her father was murdering the Green Lantern Corps.

Why would this surprise her? Raven had already seen with her own eyes that Trigon had goaded Abin Sur into attacking him. How often had that scene played out on other planets with other Green Lanterns? The New God of Revenge had already taken a heavy toll on the Corps even _before_ Abin Sur had challenged him this morning.

As tragic as Maltus was - the blasphemous prison-world of the Green Lantern's mystic power - it had obviously come with a _terrible_ price. Her father had been taking homicidal revenge against the Corps… but _why_?...

Had these doomed Green Lanterns only attempted to protect these worlds from her father's wanton path of destruction? Had they lost their lives only in the pursuit of their most sacred duty, to fight evil in all forms?

Or was there something _darker_ at work here? Had Trigon actually _targeted_ those worlds?...

While Raven pondered these questions, a new image appeared within Zareah… yet again of her father, but this time with ancient Azar. Although there were no words to be heard (as Zareah was the Goddess of the _Seen_) it was obvious that Trigon was _threatening_ the grey-haired matriarch of Azarath. There was deep trouble furled upon Azar's brow once Trigon departed.

Raven held the answer to this riddle within her.

"Azar… what _happened_ there? Did my father threaten you?"

Raven brought forth the spirit of the old woman, allowing it to flow from her physical body so that the elder soul of Azarath now appeared before her… ethereal tears flowing from its spirit eyes as it spoke in a haunted voice.

"Raven… Dearest child of Azarath... Even as I once betrayed my husband, Ra's al Ghul so that I could raise Azarath to the Heavens… I have also betrayed you in order to _keep_ it there. What has been shown to you is an image of the day you were born; when your wicked father appeared on our doorstep. We believed… we _prayed_ that he would claim you for his own… and at that moment, I would have gladly given you to him if he were to leave us alone, but this was never his intention.

He wanted the woman, not the child…

He told me that while his daughter lived within our borders, Azarath would be spared from his divine wrath. But then, on the day you turned twenty-one, he would return for you… And if you were returned unharmed, having lived with us for those twenty-one years, Trigon swore to never darken our door again or to hurt us. However, if any harm _had_ come to you, he would destroy us in your name…

I had no choice.

One thousand years of learning and peace could not be sacrificed for the sake of one child. I agreed to his terms, Raven… But then his daughter grew up to become _you_. I realized that you were not the child of evil we had believed. As you grew older and good, I struggled with the decision that I had been forced to make. And then I _knew_ I could never relinquish you back to into your father's evil grasp.

On the eve before your twenty-first birthday, I had you banished to Earth. We wanted you to find some happiness in life without the constant fear of Trigon. You had to be aware of the danger, but not the details. We had surmised that your father was a being of divine vengeance… and we had not harmed you _or_ him. We had simply set you free beyond his reach. All of Azarath prayed that our actions would prevent the evil God from claiming you for his own evil schemes, though we did not know his plans.

True to his word, Trigon returned the very next day… _furious_! He threatened to destroy each and every one of us. He cursed us profanely and screamed how terribly we would suffer for this treachery. He told me I had one year to retrieve you… and present you to him unharmed. And also that your mother's life would be the price of this lost year. On the day of your twenty-second birthday, if you were not given to him as foretold, all that he had cursed us with, would come to pass…

And Goddess help us…on that dark day, it _did_. But how could I give you to such a thing?!"

"Azar, how can you blame yourself for this?! You _saved_ me… at the price of everything you held dear, you denied my father only to save one single life… _mine_. It is my greater shame that I could not save you from Trigon's murderous fate…"

"We are beings of soul, Raven. You _did_ save us."

"Then let us unravel the mystery of what has happened here and stop my father from his path of untold destruction together. You have always been true to me, Azar."

Azar's soul flowed warmly back into Raven while she began to thank the crystal Goddess for all that she had shown her… only to have one final scene play out before her eyes.

There appeared an image of Raven, and behind her stood her mother Arella. On the left-hand side of Raven stood the crystal form of Zareah, and behind her stood an unknown Goddess whom she assumed was _her_ mother.

"Arella is my mother, so the Goddess behind you is your mother, right?"

Zareah nodded to confirm.

Trigon then appeared in the center, between Zareah's mother and her own. Yes, she was aware who her evil father was… but then the dread image of Darkseid also appeared behind Zareah, standing beside the unknown Goddess.

"If Trigon is my father, then Darkseid is your _father_?!"

Which meant that Zareah and Abraxas actually _were_ her cousins by birth, just as Metron had called them.

Zareah nodded once again.

The image of Raven and her mother slowly faded from sight. The mother of Zareah slid to the center while Darkseid and Trigon remained in their places, flanking either side of this Goddess.

In the front, coming into focus beside the crystal form of Zareah, a glowing red figure appeared. The two child-Goddesses now stood hand-in-hand.

"And this is your sister, Abraxas?"

Again, Zareah nodded… as Darkseid and Zareah faded from view, leaving only Abraxas, the mother-Goddess and Trigon.

"I do not understand… Did my father have something to do with your mother?" A vigorous nod responded to her question.

An image of Raven now appeared hand-in-hand with the crimson Abraxas, in the space Zareah had occupied earlier.

"I am related to _both_ of you… you are my cousins. Zareah and Abraxas are the twin daughters of Darkseid and this Goddess who was your mother. Is that what you wished to show me?"

For the first time, Zareah shook her head from side-to-side. Raven watched this strange game of charades as her own image disappeared, leaving only Trigon, the mother, and the glowing Abraxas.

"Trigon has done something to Abraxas and your mother?"

Zareah slowly nodded, saddened.

"Thank you, Zareah. You have shown me so much. I will visit with Abraxas to learn of our history... I promise to free you somehow, cousin."

With a burdened heart and now perplexed, Raven departed for the fifth and final Goddess… the one that had almost cost Bruce his sanity. Yet Abraxas _had_ enabled his emotional plea to escape the Guardians' orb so that Raven could find him from across the Universe. Zareah had tried to tell her something, but it had eluded her.

And something else now troubled her...

For the first time since she discovered this place, she wondered what a Universe _without_ the Green Lantern Corps would be like. She had witnessed Abin Sur boldly confront her murderous father, even at the cost of his own life. And now she had been shown that _hundreds_ of Lanterns had also fallen to her father's power. The Green Lantern Corps fought evil… And evil was destroying them.

By all accounts, the Lanterns were a force for _good_, and yet the source of their emerald power was the most heinous act of slavery ever perpetrated. Did the noble end justify such tragic means?

And as Metron had hinted, was there a Maltusian plan to eliminate the Gods and then impose the Guardians' vision of order upon _all_ sentient life in the Universe? Did the cold Maltusians even _value_ freedom and emotion… or did they consider abject slavery as the ultimate form of protection? Too many questions filled her head…

Would an invisible Goddess be able show her the light?

* * *

**Author's Note:** The next chapter contains one of the _key_ reveals in the entire story… Any guesses?


	124. Chapter 124

**CXXIV  
Abraxas**

Since her frantic arrival to this tragic alien world, Raven had come to realize that the planet and its entire atmosphere had been encased within an emerald force field created by the Guardians. This powerful force field had been put in place to keep everyone _out_, to conceal the Maltusians' most atrocious secret from the rest of the Universe.

But the planetary orb also kept the magical powers of the Goddesses _in_. These divine captives were beings of _extreme_ magical influence who could wreak a _terrible_ vengeance upon Oa with only one single lapse in this prison-planet's defences. Even the combined might of the Green Lantern Corps would be useless against the very _source_ of their Rings of Power.

That Bruce had been able to penetrate through this controlling barrier with nothing more than an emotional beam of love revealed the incredible power that Raven had stitched into their shared Fate with her love. There was no force in Creation that could keep her apart from Bruce… not the evil will of her father, not the immense separation of light years, and certainly not this ancient, green barrier placed around barren Maltus by these blue-skinned Guardians.

For as long as love remained, they could never be kept apart.

As she approached this final Goddess, Raven sensed the divine, invisible presence pinned upon the crucifix. As she neared closer, the emanations became stronger - emotions coursed through her so that the Goddess of the Unseen almost pushed her backwards… And then Raven heard a voice in her head!

_"__How nice that you have found such a love, sister."_

The _voice_ of Abraxas was nothing more than a thought within her mind. It produced no audible sound - only the one that Raven _imagined_, as though she were listening to a stranger read dialogue within her mind. Raven grasped what was happening… Thoughts were _unseen_! Which meant that Abraxas could communicate through her thoughts…

Bruce had been correct; Abraxas was a _powerful_ broadcaster of emotion as well. Raven began to worry about _what_ was being projected. These incoming emotions were not ambivalent. She felt the pure anger and hatred of Abraxas suddenly overwhelm her as she struggled to weather her emotional storm. This was divine wrath on a primal level, frightening and destructive… Raven took a deep breath before she replied.

"I come as your friend, Abraxas. We are cousins, you and I. Darkseid is my Uncle."

_"__As he is mine."_

"But how can that be? You are the twin sister of Zareah… How is it that Darkseid is _not_ your father?"

_"__Silly girl. Because our mother… the unfaithful Suli was nothing more than a grasping whore. Do you truly believe that dour Darkseid could satisfy her gluttonous appetite for powerful men? Your little exhibition of the earthly pleasures of flesh was but a __sample__ of her nightly delights."_

"But how could you _know_ this, Abraxas? Weren't you taken from your mother as an infant? Why would you believe such things about your own mother?"

_"__I do not believe... I know this because father __told__ me what she was... that is how I know __many__ things." _

Raven heard Abraxas _giggling_ in her mind…There was something blatantly obvious that she had missed here. Some piece of the puzzle that she needed to spin in order to fit it into place…

"Abraxas… _who_ is your father?"

_"__Sister… My father is your father. That is __why__ we are sisters!"_

The crashing waters of mystery emptied into the dark Sea of Oblivion as Raven's mind struggled to hang onto fleeting reason before it washed overboard. The piece that patient Zareah had tried so _desperately_ to show her was now revealed. The final image of Trigon and Suli with Abraxas… The sisters were twins… _Fraternal_ twins, conceived by different fathers! Abraxas was her half-sister by Trigon!

Stone-hearted Darkseid had sired Zareah, but it was her _own_ father… _before_ his life as the God of Revenge that had sired Abraxas! Power-mad brothers who had both loved and impregnated the same Goddess! And Suli had carried their children at the same time, two daughters from separate fathers…

_"__Do you know how my sister and I came by our tragic natures, Raven…? Why we are the twin Goddesses of the Seen and the Unseen?... We were cursed to be this way while still in our mother's womb. Suli had been the __only__ thing cruel Darkseid had ever loved, the beautiful wife he had ached for since the creation of our Fourth World, the sole recipient of __any__ goodness that had ever been in him…_

_And yet, it was striving Drax who stole her restless heart. Suli was the respected wife of the granite-faced Prince Darkseid, yet she was also the willing whore of his older brother. In her rapid intrigues, she became pregnant by __both__ brothers. And by her arts, she knew who had fathered each child in turn._

_For Zareah, she wanted the legitimate daughter of Darkseid to be beautiful, to be the only child that would be seen… but __never__ to be heard. And thus my lovely sister was born as the Goddess of the Seen - but also a mute, never to speak a word. Zareah is cursed to show all the memories of a mind, but never to talk to another of it… so as to never reveal her mother's secret sins._

_For the illegitimate daughter of Drax, she only wished for this one to disappear. I am the embodiment of my mother's shame… the child she tried to hide from jilted Darkseid. I have no true physical form… only the secret of an affair that could never be known. I am nothing more than thought and emotion, sister. And so I became the Goddess of the Unseen."_

All that Abraxas knew of her mother had been tainted by the lies of Trigon… Raven was sure of that. But that meant… _Oh_ _Dear Goddess No_…

Trigon had already been _here_!

How else would her cousin Zareah have known of the _monstrosity_ that her deplorable father had wanted as Raven's groom? Zareah's visions could not extend past the seal of the emerald dome! She had viewed those memories from Trigon _himself_! As Raven had watched the sweeping murders of one thousand Green Lanterns within her crystal cousin, she had been witnessing the bloodied memories of the Scourge of the Universe…

Trigon had known _exactly_ what the Five Inversions were…

And he _knew_ Abraxas was his own daughter...

There was no Paix Arcana…

There was only revenge.

"Abraxas… Oh God No…_did you?!_... Did you wish _for_…?"

The weight of that realization made Raven's entire Universe _crack_, shattering into a thousand jagged pieces as the _true_ tragedy of its demise now dawned upon her. Each broken piece became an entire world that Trigon had destroyed… each fracture a single life of the thousand Green Lanterns who had hopelessly perished in Trigon's bloody wake. A trillion souls had been devoured as the God's price. His own daughter had been enslaved by the Guardians for Eternity since the time of her tragic birth, and the father had used her unspeakable tragedy to further his own power…

_"__It __was__ my wish, Raven-sister. Would you deny the only happiness I have ever truly known? Each and every Goddess that hangs upon these cursed crosses __also__ longed for it in their bitter hearts, but only Abraxas had the conviction to give her father the right to take our revenge. How could you deny my vengeance against the tyrants who so willingly crucified newborns and made us slaves?"_

"What was done here… what was done to _all_ of you… it's not right, Abraxas… An unspeakable crime, unforgivable… but you _must_ forgive them, sister! He has taken one trillion lives… one trillion innocent lives across a thousand worlds…all in _your_ name."

_"__Are our jailors so abundant?"_

"No, sister… These lives had _nothing_ to do with your enslavement. Do you understand? They would have _never_ wished for you to be this way… They were innocent... He's _using_ you, Abraxas. He's using your desire for revenge to destroy the entire Universe, not only the Lanterns, but everyone! Trigon could have confronted the Guardians on Oa long ago… He could have ended this, but that is not his true desire."

_"__But these innocents would just be reborn into the Source."_

"No Abraxas… These were not Gods, these blameless victims of revenge were mortals. Their memories and souls become separated when they die. All that they have ever known, all that they have ever felt, were lost to the Sea of Oblivion… Nothing but pure light is carried back to the Source. Do you know what a mortal is?..."

_"__Father has used the term before, but I do not comprehend it. He says you are half-mortal… Does this mean that you will not be reborn from the Source, Raven?"_

"I will not, sister. I have but a single life. I will die and be lost to the Great Sea."

_"__Is it such a terrible thing? Death would be a welcome friend for me. I do not wish to be here anymore."_

"You deserve to be FREE Abraxas! You belong among the Gods of New Genesis and Apokolips, not as the slave of the Guardians. You _all_ deserve to be free."

_"__Father has promised he will free me when you marry the King of Darkness. I asked him why I could not marry the King of Darkness instead of my sister… I am the first-born Princess of Apokolips, the Goddess of the Unseen, would I not make the perfect Queen of Darkness?! But he laughed and told me I could never be married because I have no body..."_

"You have a soul, Abraxas… Which is more than our father has. With true love, it is the souls that marry, not the flesh."

_"__...Father says love is weakness."_

"He does not even know what love _is_, Abraxas… Love requires that you accept the way someone _is_, not the way you wish them to be."

_"__Acceptance... My mother could not accept me. She did not love me. Would you accept me sister - for all that I have done?"_

"Yes sister, I will... But you must _also_ accept what you have done. You must end this hatred and desire for revenge before it destroys you. You were an innocent, snatched from her home and bent to the mad desires of a monster. Your painful wish has been granted but he has not told you of the terrible, final cost. His promises are pretty illusions, crumbling into fool's dust when the last payment is made. Then, he will destroy _all_ that you are and everything around you…"

The evil voice that interrupted from behind caused Raven's throat to suddenly constrict… She realized that Trigon had not separated them simply to punish her husband...

He had sent Bruce to this planet _so that Raven would follow him_. So that Raven would meet Abraxas...

"Have you been filling my favourite daughter's head with jealous lies… _daughter_?"

* * *

**Next Chapter:** The Worst Father in the Universe...


	125. Chapter 125

**CXXV  
The Worst Father in the Universe**

As Trigon's wicked voice defiled her ears, it also filled her body, crushing Raven's spirit of hope under its oppressive tones, simultaneously releasing thousands of dark emotions.

That voice let her know that it was Trigon who had _allowed_ her to come this far and to learn this much… and that he would allow her to do _nothing_ about it. He had been called _many_ things, including the Scourge of the Universe, but Raven had to bear the most ill-fated, the most despised name that _anyone_ who knew what this monster had done – she was forced to call Trigon the Cruel…

"_Father_..."

As she turned to address him, to glance upon the evil God who had guided her here, who had used the pain and hatred of his infant first-born to fuel his own brutal agenda, no other words would follow.

Her breathing tightly ceased as her frightened heart stopped beating for perilous seconds; overwrought with a newfound panic while _something_ invisible crushed her windpipe.

Two hundred feet below was her husband… struggling vainly in the unbreakable grip that Trigon had secured around his mortal throat... the demon happily squeezing the life from her husband. Bruce's legs flailed wildly – suspended off the ground by the murderous grasp of the grinning God. But as her husband could not breathe, so too could Raven not draw breath… In matters of life and death, their fates were matched!

As her consciousness lapsed and tumbled into darkness, so too did Raven. With the last of her remaining cognizance, she managed to teleport herself down to her fading husband, crumpling without strength to the ground - but also avoiding a fatal two hundred foot fall from where she had levitated. Beside her was the prone figure of the Phantom Stranger, struggling under the heavy, overbearing foot of Trigon that was lodged upon his chest.

Just before she blacked out, Trigon relaxed his grip upon her husband's throat, allowing the lovers to breathe once again in gulping, needy breaths… her blurred vision coming back into focus.

"Did you enjoy a chat with my _favourite_ daughter, Raven?... I see you have done me the honour of accepting your _true_ form, at least. Mmmm… You do look good in red…" He cast a critical eye upon her naked body, prostrated below him while she still gasped for air on the ground, his three eyes taking in every curve and feature, a thumb stroking his chin. "Yes… _very_ nice. You shall make a fine bride."

"I… am… already… _married_!" She shouted out the words with each needed breath.

"Married?! To _this_?!" Trigon shook a semi-conscious Bruce in his powerful grip to emphasize the point…

"Daughter… Had not vile Verdandi cursed me with her needlepoint treachery, I would have rectified your mistake willingly. However, without the guidance of wise fathers, it is true that children often tumble into mistakes… _especially_ when others seek to push them onto paths they do not _belong_.

This weak thing I hold now was _not_ the fate I intended for you, foolish Raven. You had been promised to another. Now we must rely on your own _responsible_ judgement to rectify these errors of your naive heart, my dear."

Raven was finally able to stand once more, to address her father on a level playing field… if such a thing existed before the presence of Trigon.

"Father… I know you do not understand, but I _love_ Bruce. Our union was not a mistake, it was meant to be. As the child of Arella _and_ Trigon, I want to be with this man… In my soul, I hold the love of all Azarath, the shining light to your darkness, waiting for you. You need only accept it and you shall remember these precious things I feel."

"I need to do _no_ such thing…" Trigon scoffed. "Already I hold the light of a trillion souls within me, little Raven. Of what use is a thousand more? I already hold a power _far_ beyond your wide-eyed comprehension… the Source of a new Universe waiting to be born!

And all this will be my Wedding gift to you, daughter… Power beyond what _anyone_ has ever known!... One simple act… one bargain that must be kept. Become a Queen so that that you may rule the next one as a God! Existence itself will bow to your every whim… if you but honour your father's wishes."

"_Do… not… trust… him…!_" The Phantom Stranger struggled to warn Raven under Trigon's crushing foot, until the suited hero suddenly disappeared in a crimson puff of smoke.

"Bah! Let him share his heedless words with your _groom_… I have no further use for such a pompous lout… Now my dear, you've lived a _very_ sheltered life for a _very_ short amount of time. There are things a father such as I, who has lined for thousands of years, needs to teach you. The first thing is that you have already failed me _numerous_ times. I had hoped that you would have at least feasted upon the fools of Azarath by the time I came to collect you…" Trigon sighed heavily. "But you _do_ take after your mother… _unfortunately_. And as such, it was left to me…"

"I will not destroy this Universe. Nor will I marry another."

"…And _then_ Azar sent you to Earth… to _protect_ you." Trigon laughed. "Did you know I gave her a full year to rectify that mistake… a _whole_ year! I had even hoped the Earth would teach you valuable lessons in my absence… of despair, of hatred, of sorrow... these lessons your mother had learned so well during her time there…

But then, my own daughter _betrayed_ me! She seduced this pathetic piece of flesh! I never expected you to get married… Who would even marry _you_?! You are the child of Trigon! What man would _ever_ dare to be such a fool as to actually _love_ you?..."

Trigon allowed his three remaining eyes to follow the path along his arm to Bruce Wayne's own eyes, to find the man glaring back at the God.

"Oh yes… It was t_his_ man… This same fool I offered _all_ the wonders and pleasures that his world had to give, a glorious Fate of his own choosing; a love to replace the one he had _stolen_ from me, foregoing even the right of my revenge. How could I be _more_ generous, mortal?!"

"I chose the Fate I _wanted_, Trigon." Bruce spoke in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes, what you have now is the Fate you deserved _indeed_. To slap me in the face after I offered you three Paradises… and then to gouge out my own eye. Is this the Fate you so chose?"

Raven _knew_ that look in her father's eyes, and the joy that now emanated from his blackened heart…

"_NOOO!_"

"Ignorant child, even on your new world, they speak of my divine credo… _an eye for an eye_. You and I sealed our Pact in blood Raven, should not the third party do the _same_? Is the God of Revenge to forgive such transgressions against him?...

…_Never_."

Raven watched in motionless horror as her father's other hand now gripped Bruce's head like a vice, steadying it… as his pointed, crimson finger pressed against the exposed left eye of her beloved, causing the man she loved to scream in mortal anguish.

Vainly, she tried with all her might to teleport them _anywhere_, to make them go away and save her husband from Trigon's vengeful wrath… but he was the God of Revenge and no power she possessed could deny Trigon this foul act of retribution.

_"__GGAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"_

As the cruel finger pushed into Bruce's socket, it destroyed his left eye. Raven almost fainted from the pain. The lovers screamed simultaneously in profound agony, making beautiful music to the ears of Trigon.

Her father could have pushed his bloodied finger through her own broken heart as Raven's eye blazed in shared agony. While tears streamed down her own cheek, dark, vitreous fluid and blood streamed down the left cheek of Bruce.

"_Ahhh_… I left that _far_ too long, mortal!" Trigon had pulled his finger from Bruce's darkened eye socket, and was marvelling at his vicious handiwork before he continued on.

"So it _is_ true, your mortal Fates are joined… clever, _clever_ girl. I suppose that hurt, didn't it? Well, now you understand a fraction of the pain you have caused me, unfaithful daughter…. Oh don't fret, my dear… I won't kill him… After all, how _could_ I?! What sort of father would murder his own daughter on the eve of her Wedding? How heartless do you think I am?… After all, that is a _husband's_ right!

But… I will make sure you are with this mortal in perpetuity. Your actions have forced my hand in this. You know, with just a little help from these Goddesses, your lover can be made into something _else_ entirely.

His complete existence can be twisted into a single band of flesh... a living ring that you can wear around your delicate finger for all Eternity… as a living keepsake of these _simpler_ times.

And then, after centuries, you will become accustomed to the pain he suffers for his love. I too know of these things, my dear. Perhaps you may even choose to strip his Fate from your own… allowing this poor, suffering man to receive final gift of death… at least for a moment.

Is this not his rightful place in the Universe? Wrapped around your finger? A brash, arrogant husband who dared to claim a divine daughter? And did I not promise him that he would suffer like no other mortal has ever suffered before?... I will not be called a liar, Raven."

"…Father, _no_!"

"He took _my_ daughter!… But now, I am reminded that there is _another_ ring… Yes, I have even brought you this Ring, my lovely Raven. _Look_, see how its darkness absorbs the light, even now as I hold it in my hand… Its darkness exuding in shadowy opulence… a beautiful ring for a beautiful girl."

In his outstretched palm, Trigon held an ebony black ring - adorned with an inverted triangle - six lines above it. It looked similar to the ring of a Green Lantern, but _different_. There was a foul power emanating from this black ring, a soul-curdling aura of despair.

It was pure evil.

"This ring has been given to me by your _betrothed_, Raven… his most _precious_ gift_. _You have been such a selfish, unruly girl, but he has _still_ consented to accept you as his bride.

You see, while you've been busy chatting at this family reunion, your poor father has had the difficult task of quelling this dark Lord's rage. So I warn you not test his patience any further… Even _I _could not protect you from _that_.

So what shall it be, daughter… the Ring of Flesh…" Trigon tossed Bruce at her feet like trash - her lover grunting in agonizing pain as he struck the ground.

"…or this Ring of Power?"

Raven went to Bruce immediately, cradling his head into her hands, her own eyes fixed upon the place where his left eye had only just been…

"Bruce… I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry…"

His hand reached up to rest upon her cheek - wiping away her tears as he held her gaze with his one eye. Slowly, he drew her head down to his own, whispering into her ear…

"Abraxas is the key… She doesn't know what love is… Give her… the souls of Azarath… to teach her."

Trigon was incensed.

"Then the ring of flesh it shall be! Do you think there is _anything_ I can not do to your mortal, Raven?! I offered you a _choice_… I was even willing to let him live out his remaining days here on Ysmault. But now, even with his dying breath, he conspires against me! Does his treachery knows no bounds?! There is no honor in mortals!"

Raven stood up, defiantly facing Trigon.

"You are _wrong,_ father! He _is_ an honorable man. You have offered me no choice. I am already a married woman... I will not marry for a second time. And I will _die_ before I let you hurt my husband again!"

* * *

**Author's Note**: So, not only is Trigon the worst _father_ in the Universe, he's also the worst father-in-law! Poor Bruce is going to have a lot more in common with Nick Fury than he ever wanted…

**Next Chapter:** A Fairy Tale of Two Brothers.


	126. Chapter 126

**CXXVI  
Once Upon A Time…**

Once upon a time, in a magical world called Apokolips, there lived a vile and arrogant Goddess name Heggra, whose great beauty never seemed to extend beyond the confines of her own mirror. Yet young Heggra insisted to any who would listen that it _did_.

Heggra had a mighty brother named Steppenwolf, a warrior of _great_ renown, who felt it was his familial duty to declare war upon _any_ kingdom who dared to slight his dear sister. In truth, Steppenwolf needed very little excuse to engage his snivelling neighbours in war, but these countless battles to defend his sister's honor soon came to cause great calamity upon _all_ of Apokolips…

King Yuga Khan the first, a powerful monarch, woefully agreed to take Heggra as his bride… on the condition that her family ceased all wars with their fellow subjects on Apokolips. To be sure, the King cared little for this new bride, but it seemed to make his subjects happy. Besides, the King often worked abroad, spending most of days visiting other worlds… to destroy them.

So, for a time, there was peace on Apokolips.

Heggra bore two sons, each foretold to change the very course of Destiny. The eldest was named Drax, a feisty young lad who resembled his mother in appearance, but possessed the daring and commanding demeanour of his father. The second little lump was named Uxas, who inherited his father's stone flesh yet possessed the quiet, scheming mind preferred by his depraved mother.

Young Drax became known far-and-wide as a master of the hunt, a connoisseur of the finest wines, a master of the raucous feast, and a lover of all immoral woman. The Crown Prince of Apokolips was a pleasure to all... but none so much as himself.

His brother Uxas was a student of history, a scholar of science, and a well-known miserable bore. His stone heart was unmoved by the earthly pleasures his brother so ardently pursued. Uxas cared nothing for women _or_ the frivolities of love… until that day he gazed upon a beautiful and powerful enchantress…

Suli.

Truly she was the embodiment of the Goddess who had birthed Apokolips itself! A testament to its power and beauty! The young God could not resist her.

Aware of his change in mood, wise Heggra vehemently warned her youngest son against the dark arts this conniving witch had employed to make Uxas's stone heart come alive. His mother knew them only too well. Suli could not be trusted! This scheming bitch only wanted to usurp Heggra's position as the beloved Queen of Apokolips…

But to young ears in love, the only sounds that can be heard are the lust-filled promises of the night… which Suli filled those ears with constantly.

How Heggra's heart _broke_ the day Uxas married this presuming, promiscuous witch.

One year later, Suli had bore Uxas a son… a monstrous, stupid thing called Kalibak. This was proof that Fate had not smiled upon the union that Heggra had despised. But _still_, her second son refused to heed her words of warning…

As Kalibak grew in bulk and stupidity - attempting to fill the void left by his parents' neglect at the dinner table – amorous Suli became pregnant yet _again_… Heavy with twin daughters who would be Goddesses born.

The first daughter was called Abraxas, a thing no one could see, nothing more than a needful emotion.

The second, a quiet infant of polished, translucent crystal was named Zareah, the Goddess of the Seen.

Heggra informed her court that her daughter-in-law had given birth to a ghost and a crystal ball... useful tools for witches!

(Like their mother though, both daughters were powerful in the sphere of magic.)

Shortly afterwards, Heggra's wrath knew no bounds when her son Drax quietly confided that it had been _he_ who had sired Abraxas… That Suli had had used her feminine charms to seduce Heggra's eldest born – forcibly pulling him to her bed in a moment of drunken stupor - only to conceive a child… A daughter who was the first-born of the first-born, the true Crown Princess of Apokolips!

There is a poison even the Gods fear, and Heggra loved it well. She summoned her royal physician to her side… Suli had been tired and depressed since the hard birth and the Queen had just the thing for such an ordeal. An easy tonic to make a tired mother rest…

Eternally.

Uxas had been devastated by the loss, but the compassionate, maternal Heggra explained _why_ she had done this wicked deed. Suli had only used the younger brother to get to the elder one... and then bear his bastard child. To bypass her husband's own claim to the throne! Enraged, Uxas allowed his broken heart to return to stone. He would love no more…

How pleased Heggra had been when poor, jilted Uxas drafted the Paix Arcana, securing the non-aggression treaty of the doltish Guardians _and_ disposing of the unwanted twin Goddesses - all in one fell swoop! Though no one seemed more relieved than carefree Drax.

And how unfortunate it was when ambitious Drax was later lost in the Pit of Infinity, leaving only Uxas to claim the Omega Effect… Poor, embittered Uxas - who could never find it in his dead heart to forgive his brother's betrayal - had now become a God, taking the name Darkseid. A fitting future King for Apokolips!

With her son now a God named, wise Heggra arranged for Darkseid's second marriage. And in time, a second grandson was born to Heggra, the fiery Orion, who would be eagerly bartered to New Genesis by his plotting father. Truly, Darkseid did not care for the boy, or its vengeful mother…

Darkseid cared for no one. His heart was stone.

After the bitter war, an older Heggra sat across from her greatest triumph, the son she had cast in her own clever mould of deceit. The proud mother raised her goblet to toast the accomplished son... To the God of Tyranny, the Inheritor of the Omega Effect, the future King of Apokolips, the Founder of The Pact, the Architect of the Paix Arcana, and the Dread Lord of Apokolips… to her mighty son, Darkseid!

Basking in all of his dark glory, Heggra drank of the cup that had been tainted with the same powerful poison she had used long before on Suli. As the doting Queen fell finally dead across the bountiful feast upon her table, the son allowed himself a rare smile… then raised his own glass to his departed mother.

"May the fires of Hell shine upon you always… Long live the King."

* * *

**Author's Note****:** A little more back-story regarding Darkseid's origin. Apologies to the character of Suli who is being assassinated (literally _and_ figuratively) from the point-of-view of her tyrannical mother-in-law, the despicable Heggra. Boo! Hiss!

**Next Chapter:** Down but not out… Back to Bruce, Raven and Friends!


	127. Chapter 127

**CXXVII  
Two Brothers At War**

_"…__And I will die before I let you hurt my husband again!"_

This wasn't an empty threat.

Raven had the power to liberate both her and Bruce's souls from their physical bodies - to end it all here and now. They could be free in death to embrace Oblivion. Her father had taken his _last_ act of revenge against them and she would _never_ be his pawn or allow herself or Bruce to be tortured by her evil father...

A memory from six months ago suddenly flooded into her consciousness…

Bruce had convinced her to see a production of "Romeo and Juliet" while she was still attempting to get accustomed to the overwhelming emotional output of Gotham city - which was much more powerful than peaceful Azarath. Being an empath in Gotham was never easy. The theater was a controlled environment for her to learn.

In their private booth, she marvelled at the coordinated swell of emotions from the audience. To Raven, the actors were simply conductors and the audience had been their musicians of emotion. In the theatre of feelings, she had been an audience of one.

As Bruce had warned her, the ending had been tragic - but Raven had understood Juliet's final deed very well. The heroine had liberated her soul to stay with her true love. And now, she could do the same. They had vowed to keep hope alive between them, but their options were diminishing rapidly.

"Father… You will _not_ break this Fate I have made with Bruce. We will live free or we will die free. Do you understand?"

The last bastion of the mad is _reason_… Her father was mad, but even he understood what his daughter was capable of.

"Open your eyes, Raven! Do you truly comprehend _what_ this ring is that I hold, girl? This is the Black Ring of _Power_, daughter… The power to raise the dead! This is the gift which has been offered for your hand since birth. All that I have done, I have done for _you_!

A trillion lives I have taken… for _you_! I have pulled the light from a trillion souls to build a _new_ Source that I now hold within me, which awaits… for _you_! Lord Nekron has imbued the power to command the dead into this ring… for _you_!

We can extinguish _all_ life in the Universe, my dear… I have spread billions of corpses across the entire Galaxy who await your command... With nothing more than your will and this ring, you may rule all life that ever was! Worlds will fall before our army of the Undead… And these worlds will rise again to bow at your feet… the Queen of the Dead!"

"You're… _mad_. I never wanted _any_ of this. I will not destroy all that I love, and all that I hold dear… for _you_."

"Then destroy it so that it may be _spared_, Raven… spare it from Darkseid's tyranny... I have seen the Tree turned to stone! He _wins_. I have seen the future and my brother will control Fate itself. Is this the ultimate destiny you wish upon all life? To live for Darkseid? All will be no better than the six Gods behind us… _slaves_."

"Hmph… You're a slave _already_, Drax…"

Raven _knew_ that voice… Gods help her, she knew that evil voice…

Darkseid! But _how_?!

Sure enough, the King of Apokolips now stood behind her father in wisps of gray smoke… mocking them with his condescending presence. There had been no Boom Tube to alert them of his arrival though... Had he _teleported_? The Great Tyrant explained…

"A clever trick you devised, dear brother… I had never thought of using the Omega Effect upon my _own_ atoms so that I could travel across worlds. A useful feat. The Guardian's barrier had proven to be a nuisance in the past…"

"Have you come to Maltus to admire your handiwork, brother? This place is your creation as much as it is theirs, foul Uxas."

"I came here to _help_ you, brother… You have allowed yourself to become so consumed in a campaign of revenge that you don't even realize how _pathetic_ you truly are. You're nothing more than the plaything of girls…. And even they wish to play with you _no longer_… You say you have seen the future. Then you know what awaits this mad Universe… I offer you the choice, brother. Join me."

Darkseid held out his hand to Trigon.

"_Never_!"

Raven stumbled backwards as she watched devastating Omega Beams abruptly emit from an enraged Trigon straight into an apathetic Darkseid. The same flash of crimson death that had vaporized her mother crackled across the atmosphere and then… _nothing_.

Darkseid remained… unfazed, unmoved. But how?!

Bruce managed to catch his wife before she toppled over from stumbling backwards. Raven almost cried when she gazed at his left eye. But again, her resilient husband whispered to her as the two greatest evils in the Universe faced off before them…

"Raven, you have to teleport to Abraxas while they're busy. I think Trigon is nothing more than an agent of revenge. If your sister can learn to _forgive_, his reason for existence will be removed."

"Bruce, are you _sure_?!"

"No... not really. I'm grasping at straws actually. But his brother called Trigon the 'plaything of _girls'_… meaning both of you. I truly believe your father needs someone's desires to drive his actions… and he's been using your sister's need for revenge the entire time. She has to be shown more than hate, Raven… And I was gathering your clothes when your father grabbed me."

Raven saw the pile of clothes her husband had retrieved and slipped them on quickly. Trigon had viewed her as nothing more than a prized cow, a female object to claim a dark dowry. Once clothed, she kissed her husband upon the forehead and teleported.

She knew Abraxas was the only chance they had. She had made a promise for _hope_ with Bruce, and this seemed like the last hope that the Universe itself may have. Trigon _had_ to be stopped. Two Gods of untold evil stood before them, brothers of unimaginable power; one who wanted to rule the Universe, and the other who wanted to destroy it. She had to take any chance afforded to her, however slim.

Bruce witnessed the heated exchange of the two brothers while his wife attempted their desperate gambit. The acting President said a silent prayer for her. He doubted even Clark could have survived the blast that Darkseid had just been hit with, but the stone-skinned God only grinned and continued.

"Brother… we were _both_ reborn in the fires of the Infinity Pit. The Omega Effect courses through each of us. My beams would have as much of an effect upon you. We are immortal creatures born of hate and betrayal in the pit of power."

Bruce observed that calm Darkseid was the emotional antithesis of hateful Trigon… One brother of fire. The other of stone. He shuddered as Trigon screamed his reply.

"_Betrayal_, Uxas?! What would you know of betrayal?! My entire soul screamed out for revenge after you murdered me in that forsaken pit. I have been reborn the Revenant God, brother... Only living for the one day I shall avenge myself upon _you_. You know _nothing_ of betrayal."

"Don't I?… So tell me, Drax…. Whose daughter is it that hangs upon the fifth cross? And whose daughter upon the fourth? And who is their mother?"

"Are you so _vain_ that you would equate infidelity with _murder_, Uxas? Yes, I was seduced by your wife in a moment of weakness. Yes, Abraxas is my daughter as Zareah is your daughter. But it was _you_ who placed them on those crosses!"

"Your infidelity _was_ murder, brother. _You_ killed Suli… I have only loved two things in my life, and you have taken them _both_ from me. And still you scream of betrayal... Then dwell upon how you betrayed my wife, brother. Think upon _who_ was it was that whispered to our mother that one of the daughters Suli bore may not have been mine."

"How is it that you could have _ever_ sired a child of emotion, Uxas? Abraxas was something that you could _never_ have conceived. Mother was never a fool…"

"No, she was not…unlike her first son. It was you who killed Suli at the very moment you confessed your affair into her hate-filled ears. You knew Heggra would never let Suli _or_ her illegitimate child live. It was _you_ who made Abraxas the bastard daughter of a whore, condemned to die. The Paix Arcana was her only salvation."

"_Salvation_? Only you would call this slavery a salvation, brother. And now you seek to save the Universe in this same manner?"

"Perhaps… Let us admit that each of us has betrayed the other, Drax. But we have also been reborn as true Gods; Darkseid and Trigon. This bickering is nothing more than a tale from another era, such tales are best left behind us. Take my hand, brother. Let us begin this final chapter together as the true children of Yuga Khan once more…

Join me now as Trigon. Why would you destroy what _we_ can rule? I will give you a _new_ purpose, brother... To take revenge upon our enemies and crush them beneath your heels. You will be the vengeful God of the Universe, every life form capable of thought will worship and fear you.

Rule in _my_ name, brother… not in the name of a bastard child of emotion whose blind hatred lashes out against the farthest shores of _all_ existence. Seek power in the name of mighty Darkseid and we shall rule this Universe together… This is the Fate we were _born_ to, our divine inheritance. You only need to take my hand…"

Again, Darkseid offered his hand to Trigon.

"When you open your mouth brother, all I see is a den of vipers… and your tongue is the most venomous of them all. You were kind enough to _bash_ the trust out of my skull while I lay dying in the Infinity Pit. It's something I never did thank you for… But what is the device you wear upon your offered hand, magnanimous Darkseid?"

"Simply a protective measure against the Lanterns, Trigon. The power they have gained under the Paix Arcana is _significant_. Apokolips has _many_ wonders of technology I could share with you."

"I see... And the throne of Apokolips, faithful Darkseid… How many rulers may share its stately seat?"

"One, of course… But thrones are easily taken, Trigon. Take my hand and I will grant you the throne of New Genesis if you care for it."

"I do not… And _who_ was the first-born child of our _glorious_ father Yuga Khan the First, little brother?"

"… It was you, brother. But you were dead for such a long time."

"_Dead_?... Oh no, not dead. I was nothing more than a cast off, smouldering husk floating through space for thousands of years, kept alive by the cold flames of hatred and the crimson embers of the Infinity Pit…. But I was not _dead_.

I thought of you _often_, dear brother… In fact, it was the _only_ thing that kept the Black Racer's icy grip from closing mine own eyes for eternity. The image of his dark hand hovering just above my eyes was the only thing I saw for centuries, Darkseid.

Can you imagine what that's like?

It was only when those fools from Azarath provided me with the dark life-blood of their own discarded souls that my heart beat again. And later I found this prison you had designed and learned how my brother had washed his hands clean of Suli's _indiscretion_."

"Trigon, my brother… What I did was for _all_ Gods. The Guardians will not allow us the use of magic. In my naïve youth, I had hoped to protect Suli's true nature from them. This was the only way for our daughters to live…"

"_Live_?... This is not _life_, Darkseid! You may choose to grovel beneath the blue feet of the Guardians, but Trigon shall spread their ashes across dead Maltus while you remain upon your knees, kissing the dirt they trod upon. Go back to your lonely throne on Apokolips and observe while I show you what it is to _truly_ be a God!

You may then witness the Universe you once dreamed of ruling _perish_ before your eyes. All your blazing dreams of glory turned to ash. The lives you envisioned oppressed beneath your arrogant heels will instead claw at them for them from their graves… to drag you back to Hell, little brother.

I am the God of Vengeance, Darkseid. Look upon me and despair. I will be the last thing you shall ever see. I live only so that you may know death. All the fires upon Apokolips shall be extinguished until the planet itself becomes as dark as its master's heart… nothing more than lifeless stone."

"You're a hundred years too late and a thousand thoughts behind, brother. Do you truthfully believe that Darkseid would grovel before _anyone's_ feet? You do not know me at all…"

"What I spoke of shall come to pass."

"No, it will _not_… I'm afraid the future of stone you have glimpsed is the _true_ destiny, my blind Trigon. I _do_ win. Darkseid _will_ be triumphant. You see, I have already built my invincible army while _you,_ brother… well, you haven't even really begun. It shall be I who show _you_ how the Guardians are destroyed… And then, as you stole everything from me brother, my wife and my daughter, I will take _everything_ from you…"

Darkseid smiled derisively at Trigon as he vanished into a grey cloud of smoke.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Two things you _never, ever_ want to hear in the same sentence:  
"_Darkseid_" and "_Invincible Army_". Any guesses what he's been up to?...

**Bonus Feature:**

**The New Gods vs. A New Hope**

George Lucas has admitted that "Star Wars" was influenced by comics (and samurai movies). More than any other comic though, there are a number of remarkable similarities between Jack Kirby's 'New Gods' and Lucas's 'Star Wars'.

For example, the Universe is divided into two factions: The evil Empire (Apokolips) and the peace-loving Alliance (New Genesis). Darth Vader (Darkseid) rules a war-world (the Death Star or Apokolips) and the evil father must battle his own son, Luke Skywalker (Orion) who is being mentored by an old warrior, Obi Wan Kenobe (Izaya). There is an all-powerful Force (the Source) that Jedi (New Gods) may tap into, although technology is the weapon of choice.

Oh yes, both stories starts off with an uneasy truce between good and evil after a devastating galactic war.

Even Darkseid's name, pronounced "Dark Side" takes on a new significance when you think of the dark Lord of the Sith. "_You do not know the power of the Dark Side…_" But Darth Vader was _also_ patterned after another famous comic book villain. Can you guess who?

Hint: He appears in the Fantastic Four. That's right, Victor Von Doom! Wears armor, horribly disfigured, megalomaniac ruler. Could Reed Richards be Han Solo? Johnny Storm would be Luke and his sister Sue would be Leia. Definitely some influences there. Another Kirby series (written by Stan Lee).

'The New Gods' was first printed in early 1971, the 'Fantastic Four' in the late 60's. Jack Kirby was the artist for both (and wrote New Gods). 'Star Wars' was released in 1977 with Lucas completing his first draft in 1974. No one would ever say that Lucas blatantly stole from Kirby, because he didn't. But it's always interesting to see where his influences came from.

So where did Jack Kirby's inspiration come from?...

That's a good question. Jack Kirby was an endless force of creativity with magnificent talent, there's no doubt about _that_. It seems he drew inspiration from _everything_ in an explosion of ideas transforming into kinetic art that literally jumps off the page. I guess that's why they call him "The King"…


	128. Chapter 128

**Author's Notes:**

Let's explore a brief while on how the soul-sharing culture of those peace-loving Azarathians actually worked. As you may recall, Azarath was a "hive soul" - split into one thousand individuals at any given time. Azarath, being a small place, could only support the needs of one thousand people.

With her spiritual training, Zara realized that many souls may cohabitate into just one physical body so that no experience, memory or emotion need ever be lost in Azarath. All that information could be shared and preserved in the physical hosts of its citizens… so long as new citizens replaced the old ones.

When a body died in Azarath, a replacement was chosen from amongst the most tragic of all lives on Earth. If that chosen body and soul accepted life on Azarath, it would then embrace and contain all souls that the previous body contained and have access to all those experiences and memories.

Where many people view the body as the 'temple of the soul', Azarathians looked at it more like a condominium. The principal spirit (landlord) could visit whoever they wanted within their condo at any time and share in the tenant's past memories and experiences. No one truly died.

Remember, Raven still holds all one thousand Azarathian souls within her – and each of them are a collection of _not only_ the previous generations of Azarath, but also the original, lost souls that have choose to live there. No wonder poor Raven went comatose when they suddenly flooded into her!

So literally, Mrs. Wayne houses _millions_ of years of soul-memory and experience within her own soul… the combined and compounded history of _all_ citizens of Azarath from each and every previous generation as well as the entirety of their past experiences _before_ they even journeyed to Azarath.

Phew… So, now that we've cleared that up, let us also recall that the evil, eye-gouging, nasty Trigon is _indeed_ the worst father in the Universe, so now let us now find out who is…

* * *

**CXXVIII  
The Best Mother in the Universe**

Now hovering in front of the fifth crucifix again, Raven couldn't shake her anxiety about leaving Bruce alone below with her father and uncle in a heated argument. Hopefully Darkseid and Trigon would keep one another busy while she…

_"__You are worried, sister."_

"Yes Abraxas, I am. I do not like to leaving Bruce alone with father."

_"__Your husband attacked father, that is why he was hurt. Father will destroy any who attack him."_

"Bruce attacked Trigon only to save a very powerful friend who was trying to save our own world."

_"__Was the friend a Green Lantern, sister?"_

"No Abraxas… He's a Kryptonian. Trigon destroyed his world years ago when he was just a baby. Now, as the last of his kind, he has sworn to protect his adopted world. His name is Kal-El, but we also call him Clark."

_"__But Krypton must have been one of the worlds who wanted me to be imprisoned like this. That is the reason they were destroyed, sister." _

"Krypton didn't even believe Gods _existed_, Abraxas. They had _nothing_ to do with your imprisonment. No one but the Guardians even know you're here. The green dome that surrounds this planet prevents people from seeing or getting inside."

_"__But father said…"_

"Father _lied_, sister. He has been lying to you, increasing your hatred only to destroy, to fuel his own revenge against our uncle Darkseid."

_"__He is the evil one who gave me to the Guardians!"_

"Yes, he is… But that does not make father good! Sister… Both of us were just a half of father's mad scheme for revenge. You were the daughter whose tragedy would allow him destroy all who dared oppose him. And I was the daughter promised to Nekron, the one that would raise those fallen corpses from the dead and allow him to destroy the rest."

_"__Father told me it was I who wished the Universe destroyed."_

"…Do you _truly_ wish for this, sister?"

_"__I… do not know. I long to experience new emotions like the ones I sense in your heart when you think of your mortal man! I want to feel everything and become alive in these feelings!... Can you free me Raven?"_

"Abraxas… if I could, I would free _all_ of you. The devices the Guardians have used to drain your power also seals your very _essences_ to these damned crosses. But I will find a way…"

Another familiar voice now spoke in her mind… The peaceful voice of her mother, Arella.

_'__Raven… Can you release me a moment? I would like talk with Abraxas.'_

Raven opened a portal within herself for her mother's soul to re-emerge into the world outside… Arella's white, translucent form materialized in front of the fifth cross. Even as a spirit, her mother was still amazingly beautiful.

"Abraxas…" spoke Raven's mother, "I _too_ was once made to suffer as you do now. I would like to help you… if you would let me."

_"__You do not need to speak, Raven's-mother… I am the Goddess of the Unseen, I can feel your memories. Simply remember…"_

Arella thought back to her tragic, early life as an orphan in Gotham City, passed from one overloaded foster home to another. Until that day when she turned eighteen, and was pushed out onto the mean streets of the big city... alone, uncared for and homeless.

As the winter approached, Angela Roth (as she had been called on Earth) found herself drawn into a group of teenage runaways and hate-filled misfits who had formed a secret doomsday cult. They all lived in one dilapidated apartment in the Bowery, Gotham's poorest neighbourhood… but it was still better than living under a bridge along the frozen river.

They became a shadowed family, protecting one from a world that had no use for them. Like fools, they sought the dark corridors of power - attempting spells of black magic to obtain the many things they had been so long denied. But it was only Angela who had been able to work the magic successfully in those old books they had stolen.

It was a simple spell. One question was answered.

But it was only days after she had cast that spell that the man arrived…

_Ra's al Ghul._

This powerful, mature man had told Angela that she was unique… special… beautiful… powerful… _Magical_.

These were the words she had longed to hear her entire life. She was dressed in the finest clothes, taken to the best restaurants, living the life of a princess that she had never dreamed. Ra's told her that she was to join his League, an organization that would purge the Earth of its wickedness in order for a new Eden to be born, and Eden for the League _alone_. And it would be her child would lead them to this promised land, her beautiful child born of magic…

They would summon the Red Angel. A powerful entity who would plant his seed within her to bring about the birth of this second Eden and its new scion. All mistakes from the past would be buried deep beneath the soil of their new land. Man would be at harmony with nature once again. Her child would bring them to the promised land.

The night of the summoning came at the turn of the millennium. Angela was returned to the apartment she now despised and chained to the sacred bed, careful pentagrams lining the walls, ceiling and floor. Ra's had promised to return for her in the morning, when he would finally take her away from _all_ of this so that she would finally be able to begin her new life as his Queen.

He warned her that the Angel may take a _frightening_ appearance, but that she must accept his seed… for him.

The Red Angel was later summoned and appeared in a flash of crimson smoke laughing before the fools she had thought of as friends…

_Trigon_.

Like a sacrificial lamb, the demon took her unmercifully.

Every grief she had ever suffered suddenly then became inconsequential. This was a pain beyond _anything_ she had ever felt - as if she had been torn asunder in both body and soul. Defiled, Angela's womb had been the true sacrifice, her pain the demon's greatest pleasure. Unable to bear the terrible anguish any longer, she finally blacked out when her tears ran dry.

And she awoke… Alone and bleeding in a night that reeked of sulphur.

They were all gone… _dead_.

Still chained to the blood-soaked bed and crumpled in mind-numbing agony, Angela wished to _all_ that was holy that they would just let her _die_. She prayed with all her soul for the quick release of death. She screamed to the ceiling above and any who would listen to come and kill her - until the very windows exploded in her insane rage.

Angela had been _used_. She was nothing more than a prostitute for evil… The made-up whore of demons. The surrogate mother of demon-spawn – impregnated with a child she could _never_ bring into this world.

The flowery promises of Ra's al Ghul were the same lies whispered by every other soulless pimp in Gotham to every other forsaken woman who dared to dream of finding love in the darkness…

The room suddenly lit like a candle as her hoarse screams quieted.

A spirit appeared before her…

Angela Roth knew that she had finally descended into madness… that her broken mind was conjuring a mother she had never known… a matronly vision to save her from Hell.

This apparition called itself Azar and told her that she could be reborn as noble Arella on a plane of existence called Azarath… but she must not kill the child inside her as all life was sacred and preserved there. That although Angela had suffered terribly, there was still salvation for her. As Angela would give birth to her child, Azarath would give birth to child-like Arella.

Heavenly Azarath was the home of one thousand of the most tragic of all human lives from the past one thousand years… A pacifist society that allowed broken spirits to mend, each guided and aided by the other… and Angela's was the most tragic and broken life on Earth on that fateful night. The people of Azarath would tend to her, heal her. But her child would be born…

"And the rest - as they say - is history. I willingly choose to go to Azarath with its High Priestess, Azar. It was quite a change, I assure you. Raven was born to a _very_ scared and anxious mother - but I would never abandon her. You see, I had never known who my own mother was… and I could _never_ do that to my own child.

When she was born, many around me wished to exile my child, telling me that she did not belong in Azarath. That she was the child of evil. But I was her mother and she needed me. So I protected her. I gave her all the love I could and… in time, she became a woman. She learned to love more than I _ever_ could and became _more_ than just the child of Trigon… She became the woman before me."

Raven felt a tear stream down her crimson cheek as she felt them flash with hot pride. She had often dwelled on how difficult her _own_ upbringing had been in Azarath without realizing what it had been like for her mother. She knew that no one had _ever_ believed in her more than her own mother.

_"__Will you be my mother, Arella?"_

"If you would like that Abraxas, I can be your _step-mother_. I will love you like my own daughter."

_"__Yes, I would like that very much… My own mother died."_

"I know, child… But that was not your fault. Your mother chose to be remade in the Source… but I know she would have loved both you and your sister if she were only given the chance. Suli was taken far too soon."

_"__Will you go to the Source as well, step-mother?"_

"In time, Abraxas… But I will be with you for as long as you need me. I promise."

_"__Forever?"_

"Forever and ever… And there are a thousand more souls who have lived a thousand years who would also like to visit with you, to share their emotions, experiences and memories. They too had very tragic beginnings but they learned to love and forgive."

_"__Were they slaves like me, step-mother?"_

"Some were… One was a King who angered the Gods and was made into their servant. Some were broken women who lay dying in the gutters as Death herself stood over them. All have different tales to tell… Each of them had lives scarred by terrible tragedy - before they learned to accept and love themselves so that they could love and accept others. And they want to tell you their stories, Abraxas… just as I have done. To share their existence with… and _for_ you."

_"__I would like that…. Raven-sister, could you give up the souls you carry for me?"_

"I carry millions of years of life within me, Abraxas. Listen and learn from them well. For that, I will _gladly_ free the souls of Azarath to you, who is the first-born Goddess of Emotion and the Unseen…. But more than anything, _please_… take good care of my mother."

_"__I will, Raven-sister. I promise."_

Raven spread her arms wide apart, bracing herself as her dark cloak fluttered in the breeze behind her. From within the shores of her own soul, one thousand combined spirits, each a thousand years old, flew from her and into the invisible Goddess. The sun rose on Maltus as a conduit of spiritual light flowed from one sister to the other sister, ghosts of ages long passed… a million years rediscovered.

Raven felt the spirit of her own mother embrace her, kissing her crimson cheek as she wiped the tears from her daughter's eyes. The same mother who had died to save her whispered good-bye and faded away…

Arella and Azarath became Abraxas.

All except for one lone soul who now floated before Raven, the last and final spirit…

Azar.

"Raven… as you have given Abraxas the greatest of _all_ gifts which is your own mother Arella… _please,_ allow me to take her place as your own step-mother so that I may pay for my sins."

"Azar… I forgive you. You are absolved. You have paid for any perceived sins at least one thousand times over."

"But I have not forgiven _myself_, Raven. Do not forget, I am also the daughter and soul of my own mother, the original Azar who wronged my father Ra's al Ghul and made him into the scheming monster he became. The same evil man who used your own mother one thousand years later to exact his final revenge upon all life on Earth."

"Azar, I would be honoured. I will gladly be your step-daughter."

"Thank you, Raven-daughter. All wisdom I have known is yours, my dear. I will be with you always…"

As Azar happily slipped back into her soul, Raven suddenly cringed at the familiar roar that shook the very air molecules behind her, causing the planet's stony surface to recoil before its wake…

**"****WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"**

Instinctively, Raven teleported both herself and Bruce from Maltus just as her father's heavy foot came crashing down through a black cloud of smoke - where her lover had only just _been_…

If she had been a millisecond later, her father would have flattened Bruce into pulp…

And, by the woven thread of Fate they shared, Raven _as well_.

Teleporting across the dark dimensions on their journey back to faraway Earth, Raven found herself smiling at a strange realization…

Trigon had finally accepted that she was truly married to the man she had chosen.


	129. Chapter 129

**CXXIX  
Meanwhile at Stately Wayne Manor…**

With the mysterious worldwide loss of wi-screens hours before, Alfred Pennyworth had rediscovered an old friend of his…

The radio.

With the Wayne Industry wi-screens suddenly unavailable, people had to go back to the physical media devices of previous years, and (if the truth were to be known) Alfred had always been fond of the radio. However, as the majority owner of one of the world's pre-eminent technology companies, he supposed he _should_ change his old-fashioned view of new technology… but still, old habits were (as they say) hard to break.

And besides, the radio _worked_.

Earlier in the day, the contractors had finished tidying up the debris from the repair of the estate's roof and Alfred himself had coordinated the cleaning crew to put the Manor back into ship shape after the 'military occupation' of two days ago.

The bustle of work had kept him blissfully occupied… but also kept his mind off what would have consumed his thoughts otherwise... Where were Mr. and Mrs. Wayne currently and were they alright? By all accounts, the pair seemed to have disappeared off the face of the planet.

The old man had often spent many days by himself in the grand old Gotham estate, but this was the first time he had actually felt _lonely_. He had considered keeping some of the contract staff for overtime, but many had other obligations and family to return home to.

By himself, sipping tea in the large kitchen, Alfred desperately attempted to push away the dark thoughts that had haunted him for the past hours… What would he do without Bruce and Raven in his life? He had already lost Master Richard, he couldn't bear to lose another of his American family.

A recording of General Tyrexius Johnson's speech was once again playing on the radio, assuring the American nation (and the world) that the demonic threat known as Trigon had been defeated by the Intergalactic Peace Force known as the Green Lanterns Corps. These same Green Lanterns were currently working with the governments of the world to ensure the safety of the planet from other intergalactic threats. There was no reason to panic.

The whereabouts of the Acting President and his wife were currently unknown, but all efforts were being made to locate them.

The demon horde in Kahndaq had been contained by a combination of the Green Lanterns and American heavy infantry, and the Middle Eastern country was now clear. The General spoke of a massive clean-up effort that would be coordinated by a U.N. special task force for both Kahndaq and Bialya, with assistance by all member nations. However, surrounding countries and displaced citizens had already made began making claims on the deserted nations.

Alfred sighed… and then gasped.

_Someone_ was calling his name… from upstairs. The voice was familiar, but deeper and more hoarse from Mrs. Wayne. Alfred stood up and listened intently. Yes… Raven _was_ calling for him from the master bedroom. _Thank God_!

Without delay, Alfred dashed up the stairs towards her voice ready to assist. He should have remembered that Mistress Wayne did _not_ necessarily have to use the main entry. As he opened the bedroom door, his enthusiasm was quickly replaced with horror when he peered at the face of his young ward, Bruce Wayne who was sitting on the bed, staring at him with one eye.

"Master Bruce…. Your _eye_. I will alert the hospital immediately, sir."

"No, Alfred… No time. Get the local anaesthetic and isopropyl alcohol. And I'll need you to stitch this up, old friend."

"Master Bruce. You've been gravely wounded… Enucleating surgery is a serious affair, I assure you, quite beyond me. You need to…"

"Alfred… _now_."

Alfred knew better to argue with Bruce when he was like this. The old man would press for details _after_ he retrieved the first aid items, including the skin glue, eye covering band-aid and strong antibiotics… but for now, he was thankful that the two of them were still alive.

Alfred had barely even registered that Mrs. Wayne had been in her '_demon'_ form with crimson skin and yellow eyes. He was confident there would be quite a story to tell about how Trigon had been defeated, but for now there seemed to be more pressing matters. Retrieving the items, Alfred re-entered the bedroom.

"Master Bruce, please… reconsider this. The immediate danger has passed, there's no need to rush…"

"Alfred... Trigon is still _alive_." Bruce laid down on the bed. "That's why I need this done right away. Spray the anaesthetic around my eye. How long does it take to work?"

"About two minutes, sir."

"That's too long. But spray it on anyways."

Alfred sprayed Bruce's lacerated eye socket, grimacing as he watched his patient tense up. Bruce placed his hand upon Raven's shoulder.

"Raven, would you fill Alfred in on the details about what's been going on? And you'd better switch over to your human-side. Next stop is the Pentagon. OK Alfred, please dump the isopropyl into the socket…"

"I will apply it _gently_, sir. I'm quite sure you would prefer _not_ to lose sight in your other eye from alcohol poisoning. We will rely on the antibiotics for your infection."

"Whatever you think… _OOOWWWW_!"

Bruce clenched his teeth and fists while Alfred cleaned and treated the exposed flesh with a mix of patience, cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol. When the old butler had finished the cleaning, he noticed that Mistress Raven had changed from her crimson shade to a more familiar flesh tone, along with the sparkling, violet eyes he had marvelled at so often over the past year. She smiled at him in appreciation while he prepared the antibiotics.

"Alfred… What have you heard so far?"

"Only what's been on the news, I'm afraid, Mrs. Wayne… Our Acting President had traveled to Kahndaq to confront Trigon. He met with the demon just before dawn, when all wi-screen capability went down across the world. There was an unsuccessful attack upon the demon and then the Green Lantern Corps were summoned to finally defeat him. Then the two of you disappeared."

Alfred was now injecting the potent antibiotic cocktail into Bruce.

"He was not defeated, Alfred. My father simply transported himself off-world, giving the _appearance_ that he was destroyed. And the Green Lanterns themselves may not be completely trustworthy. They have enslaved six Gods as the power source of their rings."

"Were the two of you investigating these matters when you disappeared, Mrs. Wayne?"

"Not intentionally, Alfred. My father transported Bruce to a world called Maltus in order to exact his revenge upon him. I located Bruce and followed. Trigon has been waging a war against the Universe and the Green Lanterns for centuries. We were able to escape from Maltus, although my husband paid a terrible price…"

"She was _great_, Alfred!" interrupted Bruce while Alfred carefully opened the skin glue to now seal his ward's left eye. "She saved the entire world, and then saved my life twice today. She stood up to her father and wouldn't back down. She's really amazing."

"Our Raven truly is the most remarkable person I have ever met, sir. Now please remain perfectly still… this glue is _very_ strong and I would like to be able to remove my fingers from your face, master Bruce."

"_Bruce_…" confessed Raven. "I'm the whole cause of this mess. If it weren't for me…"

"… Everyone on this planet would be _dead_, Raven. You know _that_. You can't blame yourself from what your father has done or will do. In fact, the Phantom Stranger led me to believe that you're the key to our salvation. That your choice will tip the scales of balance one way or the other."

"My choice was made the day we wed, my husband. I believe my that even my stubborn father has finally realized _that_. I am not sure what his next action will be, but I am fearful for what he may do. But I will always choose you, my love."

"… And _done_!" Alfred finished fixing the square band-aid over Bruce's eye and then stood back to appraise his handiwork. "You will still need proper surgery as soon as possible, Master Bruce."

"Thank you Alfred. I promise I will get it properly taken care of, but right now, we have a Universe to save."

"Master Bruce… Mistress Raven. Please… be _careful_. For my sake."

Bruce grasped the old man's hand.

"We will, Alfred. Thanks for the patch up, old friend."

"What he _meant_ to say is that we love you too, Alfred. You will always be like a father to us."

Mrs. Wayne embraced Alfred tightly and kissed him on the cheek. As stoic as the old butler had been, he could never hide his true feelings from his empathic Mistress. Nor would he wish to.

The old servant watched as the black smoke once again encircled Bruce and Raven as they departed to the outside world. If anyone had cared to ask, he would have simply explained that it had been the sulphurous smoke that had caused his old eyes to well with tears…


	130. Chapter 130

**CXXX  
Pentagon of the Green**

As the beleaguered couple suddenly arrived in a swirl of dark smoke, Bruce and Raven caused an immediate state of alarm within the War Room. After talking dozens of security guards and generals to stand down and lower the weapons, Bruce was able to verify his identity via a DNA-scanner and begin to re-establish order in the room. There were a flurry of questions regarding his eye, Trigon and their previous whereabouts – all of which he promised to answer later.

Within minutes, Bruce arranged a meeting with General Tyrexius Johnson in a briefing room. He wasn't going to like what Bruce had to tell him. Along the way, Raven had warned Bruce that there was an extreme feeling of unease and trepidation within the Pentagon. If everyone had believed Trigon had been defeated, shouldn't there be jubilation?

She then alerted him that they weren't the _only_ strangers here.

When Bruce and Raven arrived to meet with his most senior General, their suspicions were instantly confirmed…

The Guardian called Ganthet - along with five strange-looking Green Lanterns - were _also_ with General Johnson and his senior staffers. And judging by the various emerald projections lining the walls and the fact that it was Tyrexius himself who was seated, it soon became clear to Bruce who were the officers in charge…

"Ahhh, Mr. Wayne," spoke Ganthet. "Welcome back. I see you have re-considered placing Mrs. Wayne within our custody. I assure you, it _is_ for the best."

The little blue guy was nothing if not smug.

"That's not why we're here, Ganthet. And in this building, it's _President_ Wayne. My wife is not a criminal, on this world or any other. She will _not_ be handed over to the Corps. That matter is _closed_… But why are you here?"

"We are here _President_ Wayne, to establish this planet's defences and strategies regarding future intergalactic threats that are beyond its nascent capabilities. It seems that there is _much_ work to do in this regard… Your world has been mercifully spared from such alien attacks… until the appearance of Mrs. Wayne caused the entity known as Trigon to follow her to this planet. Should I also refer to your wife as _President_?... This world has far too many honorific titles. Do you govern as a couple?"

Bruce would have to pop that blue-hued superiority bubble with some very pointed facts…

"She's referred to as the First Lady, and there's only one President. I'm much more concerned with the _current_ intergalactic threat than future ones, Ganthet. And yes, my wife and I are _well_ aware of the reason why Trigon was able to destroy one thousand worlds, and why it was he came to this world...

Those one thousand worlds and _all_ their inhabitants Trigon destroyed were under the protection of the Green Lantern Corps, weren't they?... Have you ever figured out _why_? Do you even realize _who_ it is that you Guardians have crucified upon the fifth cross?!"

"…It is _true_ that the evil entity called Trigon has destroyed a large number of worlds under the protection of the Corps - and that many Lanterns have lost their lives in defending those worlds against the Crimson Scourge of our Universe. This is a war we have fought for _far_ too many years and incurred _far_ too many casualties. A war that we were finally able to end thanks to our newest member, a young lady of your world…"

So… they truly didn't know. Bruce fixed the little alien with a stare from his one good eye.

"Nothing has _ended_… Trigon is still alive, Ganthet. Who do you think did this to my eye? My wife and I narrowly escaped with our lives. When we last spoke, we didn't leave that little parley in the desert of our own accord… It was Trigon _himself_ who teleported me to the forbidden planet of Ysmault... or should I say _Maltus_?...

Whatever the Green Lanterns' are able to achieve with that stolen power… There's _no_ excuse you could ever give me to justify the cruelty you've employed there. So if you think you'll be putting my wife up on a seventh cross, you're _severely_ mistaken. Those actions have already had tragic consequences you're not even aware of.

None of you even realized that the fifth Goddess secured under the Paix Arcana was his first-born daughter, did you?! You have Trigon's daughter Abraxas nailed to a crucifix. The Guardians may as well have hand-delivered the God of Revenge a license to destroy every single planet under their protection! Trigon's been using her hatred to take his revenge upon _all_ of you."

Bruce carefully studied the Maltusian to gauge his reaction. Beside him, he knew Raven was using her empathic powers to do the same thing. The little alien seemed to display no emotion whatsoever, but Bruce had certainly ruffled the feathers of the Lanterns in attendance (one of them _literally_). Ganthet attempted a comeback.

"President Wayne… The Great Beast has filled your head with conjecture and lies. You wouldn't be the first to fall to under his evil influence and mental powers. He has obviously shown you illusions of what he _wanted_ you to believe. We are well aware of our adversary. Trigon had no daughter until your wife was born."

"That's true, Ganthet… _Trigon_ didn't sire any surviving children until Raven. But he wasn't born as Trigon. The Crimson Scourge was first born as the crown prince of Apokolips, the New God who was called Drax.

In his previous existence, Drax was the brother that Darkseid betrayed and murdered after impregnating his wife - the same Drax who later became the God of Revenge called Trigon. Who found Maltus to learn that the Guardians have the daughters of both Darkseid _and_ Trigon nailed to their crosses… Trigon's own niece and daughter who've been imprisoned there since they were infants. He's been taking revenge against the Green Lantern Corps ever since."

_Pop_.

"President Wayne… if the demon called Trigon _were_ still alive, we would have sensed it. There have been no readings confirming his presence since Earth's own Green Lantern was able to overcome him. Perhaps it is the stress of your ordeal that has caused you to construct these wild fantasies…"

"Then have you tried scanning your old stomping grounds of Maltus? Because that's where we left him only minutes ago... But if you don't believe me, just wait a few minutes. I'm quite sure Trigon will be returning to Earth… He has unfinished business with _all_ of us."

"If he does, rest assured… it shall be the Corps who will finish that business for Earth, President Wayne."

Bruce drew a deep breath. How many lives had to be lost before the Guardians _finally_ accepted the heart-rending truth?

"The Corps _can't _stop him, Ganthet. Your rings are _useless_ against Trigon. How many lives will you allow to be lost before you realize that? That power is drawn from his own daughter and niece… who won't allow you to harm him. Because he's been working _for_ them. That's why the Corps have lost one thousand times in the past against Trigon. Even Barbara's '_victory'_ was nothing more than a ruse created by Trigon to lure Raven to Maltus… To reveal his plans to destroy the rest of the Universe not under Lantern protection…"

"Three-and-a-half-billion years ago, while the very first cells of life were still forming in the primordial ooze on this little world, I was designing flying machines capable of space travel upon Maltus, President Wayne. The Guardians are the oldest sentient life-forms in the Universe, predating even the Gods themselves. We are well aware of what we can, and cannot, _do_. We will stop Trigon… _if_ he even still exists."

"Have you ever heard of a _black_ Power Ring, Ganthet?"

"A Power Ring may be colored however its bearer chooses… We prefer _green_ of course, but the end result is the same. It is a Power Ring."

"No, this ring is _unique_… It was constructed by someone called Nekron, the Lord of the Unliving. According to Trigon, it can raise the dead. And Trigon has it..."

"More of his lies and tricks, President Wayne… Pardon me, I am getting a communication from my fellow Guardians on Oa…"

The humans in the room watched as the blue-skinned Ganthet concentrated, receiving a telepathic communication from across the Universe that only he could '_hear'_. It was obvious that even the Green Lanterns present had not considered Bruce's revelations as 'lies' or 'tricks'. They seemed _genuinely_ concerned by these developments.

As Bruce observed the group, he couldn't even imagine what he himself would be like after four billion (_or more_) years of living… but he was positive that he would be just as pig-headed as Ganthet was. Did ethics, emotions and morality simply fade away after a billion years of life and experiences? Had the Guardians become hopelessly _jaded_ beyond the moral scope of mortality?...

Of course! Metron had recognized this, and the Guardians must have accepted this lack of emotion within themselves as well… That was the _true_ reason they had selected sentient life-forms as emerald champions and discontinued the robotic Manhunters… because these mortal Green Lanterns actually _cared_ about their worlds and the lives they protected.

Bruce had no doubt that the Guardians had noble objectives, but he wondered to what extent their lack of compassion and sympathy had effected their ability to interact with other races and make ethical choices concerning protection. The Maltusians had long ago become creatures of pure logic and order, abandoning the heart for the mind…

Ganthet broke his silent communication.

"I am sorry, President and First Lady Wayne. I must apologize to you as well, General Johnson. We will continue this conversation at a later date… Recent developments require the immediate attention of these attending Green Lanterns _elsewhere_. The Green Lantern Barbara Gordon may remain on Earth until her training begins on distant Oa…

…And President Wayne. We are firm believers that the ends _do_ justify the means. It is one of the fundamental tenets of evolution. Our eyes are always on the future."

"Your means are _not_ achieving the required ends, Ganthet. If you do not adapt, we will _all_ become extinct very, very soon. That is another tenet of evolution."

"Oa must make decisions we deem necessary - for the preservation of life. But we will respect the authority upon this world… as is our code. Farewell."

Bruce and Raven watched as the Guardian and Lanterns disappeared in a flash of green light. He wished Ganthet would have been more specific about the emergency that had called them away. Had Trigon resurfaced? Or had another threat appeared. Bruce turned to his wife…

"Raven…Did you get a read on Ganthet?"

"The old one is almost without emotion. He respects you though. Your words _did_ have an effect on the other Lanterns though. Two of them have at least _heard_ of Nekron. None of them were aware of the existence of a black Power Ring - or the fact that Trigon is still alive, but they did not seem completely surprised by that revelation, either. The Lanterns have a long history of failure and tragedy against my merciless father. They were very concerned to be called away."

Bruce felt the firm hand of General Johnson on his shoulder…

"Mr. President… First, let me say it's good to have you back. But what the _Hell_ is going on?! These Green Lantern guys just suddenly appeared here and demanded to talk to who's in charge and then make us look like rank amateurs when we try and prevent them from doing just that. And now you're telling me Big Red is still alive?!…"

"I'm sorry to break this to you Tyrexius, but he _is_. After we chatted with Trigon in the desert, the Green Lantern Corps thought they had defeated him, but it was all just a ploy. Thanks to Trigon, Raven and I have just been on Ganthet's old home world, an abandoned planet called Maltus. The Guardians have six Gods imprisoned there they use as the fuel to power their rings.

Trigon was trying to strong-arm Raven into joining him so that they could raise an intergalactic army of the dead, but she abjectly refused. As part of those strong-arm tactics, Big Red poked out my eye. To be fair though, I did blast out _his_ eye with the Tachyon Cannon in order to save Big Blue. Anyways, Trigon was not pleased with Raven's refusal so my wife transported us back to Earth in the nick of time. My butler patched up my eye and here we are…"

Bruce had left out a _few_ of the sordid details of course…

"So these Green Lantern guys… are they allies?"

"They are, but the blue-skinned guys who lead them are jerks. They're like a Senate with no Congress, President or elections - where all the Senators live forever."

"I actually know a few Senators like that… So will Trigon re-appear in Kahndaq?"

"That would be my guess. Will the soul barrier stop Trigon's re-entry, Raven?"

"It is still weakened, Bruce. It will re-establish in time, but it will not stop him now… perhaps delay his re-entry by moments."

"Damn… Well then General, Trigon will reappear in Shiruta."

"… But you said Trigon had unfinished business with _you_. Wouldn't that mean he'll appear wherever you are?"

"Exactly… And I'll be in Shiruta."

"Goddamit Wayne!" Johnson pounded the nearest desk. "That's _not_ how we do this! I am _not_ using the President as bait for that… _thing_!

... Look, the last time he took the choice out of our hands and we gave in to his demands by sending you there. This time we can take _him_ by surprise. I can have our armed forces ready to blow that red monster into dust as soon as he appears. It's my job is to protect this country and _you_ – and it's a hell of a lot easier to do it in my own backyard than in some country half-a-world away."

Bruce knew his most senior General wouldn't take his decision well, but as a leader, he couldn't jeopardize more lives when there was a readily available option not to. If there was going to be a war, he didn't want it on inhabited soil.

"General… I understand your concerns. But this isn't an enemy we can defeat by conventional means. To be honest, I'm not even sure how we are going to stop him yet, but I'm hoping my wife will help me with that.

If Trigon were to re-emerge in Washington, all Hell would break loose and there would be a _far_ too many casualties. That's not a concern in Kahndaq. And if we do fail to stop him, I expect the world will use _all_ conventional means possible to protect themselves. I'd rather have those weapons pointed at a dead country than America.

And if my guess is correct, Big Red will try to use the black Ring of Power for himself to raise the dead. He sounded like he's ready to enter the army-building stage of his master plan. Could you imagine what a zombie apocalypse would do here?... No, it will be much easier to contain in Kahndaq. Besides, Clark is still alive there, and I would like _this_…"

Bruce pointed to the band-aid covering his empty eye socket.

"… to mean _something_. I just pray to God our man of steel is back on his feet by the time Trigon gets here…"


End file.
